


don't worry baby (about how it should be)

by 249b-east-35th (NinjaKitten)



Category: Misfits (TV 2009)
Genre: I tried to make this slow burn but I'm impatient, Internalized Biphobia, M/M, Nathan is his own warning, other characters in supporting roles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2018-10-24 14:49:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10743894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinjaKitten/pseuds/249b-east-35th
Summary: A drunken night out forces Simon to finally address his hopeless crush on Nathan Young, but his actions put their friendship at risk.Meanwhile, the gang gains a stalker fan who will do anything to force them into the spotlight.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a one-shot, then I got invested. 
> 
> Credit for the title goes to Ben Lee - it's from 'Into the Dark', which I shamelessly love ~~and sing to in the car.~~
> 
> Warnings so far are all up in the tags, if there's something I need to tag let me know!
> 
> Updates may be sporadic.

“…so we were getting down to the shagging, right? Then she pulls out this strap-on—” Nathan held his hands about six inches apart “—and says if I want to fuck her in the arse I have to take it first.”

“So you didn’t get laid?” Curtis was sprawled across a chair, hand shielding his eyes from the sun.

“’Course I did! Felt like I was about to shit myself half the time, but…” Nathan shrugged.

“That’s just wrong.”

“Come on, like you’ve never experimented. Slipped a finger up there while having a wank?” Nathan paused to take in Curtis’ disgusted expression. “You’re missing out, man.” Nathan flung himself onto the sofa, his feet landing on Simon’s legs.

Simon half-heartedly shoved him off. He didn’t really mind, but it might look odd if he let Nathan stay there. Anyway, Simon thought, it would far too easy to accidentally rest his hand on Nathan’s ankle, maybe even slip his fingers under the hem of his jeans to brush his bare skin… 

He could already hear Nathan accusing him of having some sick fetish.

“What about you, weird kid? You must’ve had a go up there—ow, fucking hell!”

“You’re disgusting.” Kelly sat down beside Nathan. 

“What took you so long? I need a drink.” Nathan sat up, rubbing the back of his head. 

“I’ve got something else on.”

“She’s got a date,” Alisha added.

Simon couldn’t help but be jealous, although he wasn’t sure if it was due to his lack of a romantic life or Nathan’s disappointed expression. 

“Anyone else?” Nathan looked to Alisha, who just shook her head.

“Don’t feel like it.”

“Curtis?”

“Got a date.”

“Are you shagging Kelly?”

Curtis rolled his eyes. “With Nikki.”

“Threeway?” Nathan ducked away from Kelly’s hand then threw his arm around Simon’s shoulders. “Guess it’s just you and me, Barry.”

Simon squirmed out from Nathan’s hold and smoothed his hair down. Why did Nathan have to _touch_ him all the time? It had started on only their second day of community service, with a casual touch on his arm—and yes, Simon is very aware of how pathetic it is to be able to trace Nathan’s little habit back like that. 

Simon was contemplating that lack of boundaries—and, more disturbingly, how much he enjoyed it—as they walked to the pub, close enough for their shoulders to brush every now and then. Nathan was whistling some random song, his hands in his pockets as he walked. 

A couple rounded the corner ahead of them and Nathan cursed. He grabbed Simon and pulled him against the wall. 

“What’s wrong?”

“That’s the girl from last night,” Nathan whispered, his breath tickling Simon’s ear.

Simon lowered his voice to match Nathan’s. “Didn’t you have sex with her?” 

“Yeah, that’s the problem.”

“What—”

“See that massive bloke with her? That’s her boyfriend.” Nathan’s fingers closed around Simon’s arm. “Shit, he’s coming over!”

Nathan ducked into the doorway of a closed shop, pulling Simon with him. 

“Nathan—”

“Hide me!” Nathan hissed at him. “Fuck, he’s going to kill me.”

“You’re immortal.”

“It still _hurts_!”

Simon sighed and let Nathan squeeze between him and the door. “Did you know she had a boyfriend?”

“Not when we started.” Nathan shifted uncomfortably. 

As long as the man kept walking in a straight line, they were out of sight. They were pressed tightly against each other and Simon was cursing Nathan’s sex drive for getting him into this. If someone walked right past, they’d be seen, and they were in a fairly compromising position. Nathan was slouching against the door to try to hide behind Simon’s shorter frame and it was putting their faces awfully close. If Simon leaned forward, he could kiss Nathan. He tried not to think about it, even though it would have been so easy to press their lips together or see what would happen if he bit down softly on the inviting curve of Nathan’s neck and shoulder…

Simon shivered and moved back a fraction. Nathan fidgeted beside him, his breathing quick and rough. Maybe he was more scared than he wanted to show; although Simon highly doubted this was the first time someone had been after Nathan for coming on to their girlfriend. Their hands brushed and Simon suddenly wanted to take Nathan’s hand and comfort him somehow. He’d like to think that Nathan would react favourably, but he would be far more likely to shove Simon off and call him gay. Then they’d be caught and, knowing their luck, beaten to death, and the chance to hold hands with Nathan probably wasn’t worth that.

“I think they’re gone,” Nathan whispered, his breath hot on Simon’s skin.

Simon was almost disappointed as he stepped back out into the street. It was cold there, unprotected from the wind, and Simon missed Nathan’s warmth.

“Are you coming?”

Nathan hung back, still hidden by shadows. “In a minute. Dropped my phone.”

Simon nodded slightly and turned away to wait. He was pretty sure there wasn’t any way Nathan’s phone could have ended up on the ground, because he’d felt it in Nathan’s pocket. Well, there was something digging into Simon’s hip, but Simon wasn’t so deluded as to believe that Nathan had been at all turned on in that situation. God, if he’d realised that _Simon_ had been… It was too much to even think about. 

When Nathan eventually joined him again, they set off towards the pub. Thankfully it wasn’t far, because Nathan had been unusually quiet the whole way. 

Nathan shoved the door open and made his way to the bar, leaving Simon to fight his way through the crowd behind him. He found Nathan about to order, and leaned against him. It wasn’t really intentional, just a necessity from how packed the pub was—even by Friday night standards. Nathan stiffened and stepped forwards to make more room.  
Simon bit his lip. He knew straight boys could get weird about touching each other, but this was ridiculous. Especially since it was _Nathan_. His idea of a friendly greeting could probably be grounds for a lawsuit. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just… let’s get pissed. You’re buying.” Nathan took his beer and shoved through the crowd to charm his way into a table at the back. 

Simon followed once he’d paid. If buying Nathan alcohol would fix whatever had come between them, he wouldn’t mind. He had to remind himself of that when Nathan decided it was time to start ordering multiple shots.

“C’mon, Barry. Just one.” Nathan shoved the shot glass across the table, the alcohol slopping over the plastic rim.

“I don’t like vodka.”

“If you swallow it quickly, you won’t taste it.” Nathan smirked at him.

As usual, Simon felt like there was a joke he was missing. He grabbed the neon pink glass and downed the shot. It _burned_. Simon choked and dropped the shot glass, still half full. He crossed his arms on the table and dropped his head, coughing.

Nathan patted him on the back. “You’re really shit at that.” He took the shot glass back and swallowed the rest of, flicking his tongue over the drops of vodka clinging to his lips. 

About three drinks later, once Nathan had convinced Simon to switch to something a little harder—“light beer’s for pussies”—Nathan seemed drunk enough to act normally. For a given definition of normal.

Simon hadn’t realised that alcohol could make someone all soft and affectionate. He’d only ever been drunk a few times himself, and none of them ended well. Nathan was petting Simon’s knee and mumbling something about how he loved him and they were best friends and could Simon please buy him another beer?

“You’ve had enough.”

Nathan looked up from where he was lying across the empty seats. “’m fine.” He reached up to touch Simon’s face but lost the will to move after a second, his hand trailing down Simon’s chest. 

Simon grabbed Nathan’s wrist before he could touch him anywhere embarrassing. “Come on, I’m taking you home.” Simon pushed Nathan off of him and stood up, a sudden wave of dizziness forcing him to steady himself on the table.

Nathan passively let Simon haul him up and half-carry him out of the pub. No one gave them so much as a second glance as they left, even though Simon had his arm around Nathan’s waist and Nathan was clinging to him. Simon thought absently that it should be like this, that he should be able to touch Nathan and Curtis and tell them how much they meant to him even when he was sober, like girls were somehow allowed to. The thought dissolved as he looked up and Simon saw the stars glittering against deep black. He’d once watched them when he couldn’t sleep, thinking maybe the answers were out there somewhere; only now he couldn’t remember the questions he was asking.  
Nathan stumbled slightly and leaned heavier against Simon. He was babbling about something inane, and Simon listened to the sound of his voice as they walked the last five minutes to the centre. 

“Nathan?”

The other boy made a small sound and pressed his face into Simon’s neck. “What?”

“Where are your keys?”

Nathan fumbled around in his pockets for a second before producing them. Simon took them, knowing Nathan didn’t have the coordination to unlock the door. 

Simon flipped the light switch on when they entered and a cold glow lit up the centre’s hard edges. Simon hated leaving Nathan here; it was bad enough during the day. He looked at the stairs and sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy.

Nathan slowly slid out of Simon’s grip and landed on the floor. “Night,” he mumbled.

“Come on.” Simon tugged ineffectively at Nathan’s hand. “You can’t sleep here.”

“I’ve done it before.” 

Simon frowned. He leaned down and scooped Nathan up, ignoring the constant stream of curses as he dragged him up the stairs. The other boy was a lot heavier than he looked. 

Simon dumped Nathan on his mattress and turned to switch off the main lights. He faced Nathan again only to see him unzipping his jeans, shirt already discarded.

“Why are you taking your clothes off?”

“It’s hot,” Nathan said as if explaining something very basic to a child. 

“No, it isn’t! You’re just drunk.”

Simon was starting to feel too hot himself. It wasn’t like he’d never seen Nathan unclothed—that little striptease on the roof had nearly killed him—but he still couldn’t resist the urge to look. At this short distance, Simon could see the faint scar on Nathan’s collarbone, the tattoos dotted over his torso, the small pink nipples peaked with cold—Simon tore his gaze away. He shouldn’t have looked in the first place. Nathan was his drunk, male best friend. Three strikes that perfectly summed up why Simon should not have been thinking about touching Nathan. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Nathan caught Simon’s wrist. “Stay with me?”

“It’s late,” he said helplessly. It wouldn’t do any good. 

“Please?” Nathan stroked Simon’s hand and tangled their fingers together.

Fuck. Simon had really thought he’d gotten better at saying no to Nathan. “Okay.” He awkwardly sat next to Nathan and leaned against the railings. 

Nathan let go of Simon’s hand but shifted to sit right next to him. “Why don’t we ever go out?”

“We see each other all the time.” The sentence was slurred. Simon noted that as if it were someone else speaking. The dim mezzanine was going pleasantly hazy. Maybe he was drunker than he thought. 

“Community service doesn’t count.” Nathan squirmed against Simon in an attempt to get comfortable. “It’s never just us.”

“I didn’t think you liked me that much.” The words came out before Simon could stop them. 

Nathan looked at him with a wounded expression. “Why would you think that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Simon glanced down and fidgeted with the corner of Nathan’s blanket. 

Nathan moved closer, warmth pressing against Simon’s side. He put his hand on Simon’s knee, his fingers lightly stroking. Simon turned to ask why Nathan was touching him like that, then Nathan’s mouth was on his.

Nathan pulled away when Simon didn’t kiss back, but stayed close enough for Simon to feel Nathan’s breath on his skin.

“What are you doing?” Simon breathed.

“Kissing you.” Nathan’s hands went to Simon’s shoulders and he pushed him back against the rails before clumsily scrambling into his lap. 

Simon let it happen, paralysed with uncertainty. He reached up to shove Nathan off but found that he didn’t really want to. Nathan kissed him again and Simon’s hands tightened on Nathan’s sides. There was warm, bare skin underneath his hands and oh _god_ Nathan was half-naked on top of him. Simon didn’t remember deciding to close his eyes or part his lips but Nathan tilted his head and suddenly his tongue was touching Simon’s.  
Simon whimpered and Nathan kissed him with renewed enthusiasm. The whole thing was getting very wet, but Simon couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Nathan’s hand trailed down Simon’s chest and slipped between his legs. The shock sobered Simon up more than a cold shower would and he grabbed Nathan’s wrist. 

“Nathan, don’t!”

“Don’t you like it?” Nathan sloppily bit at Simon’s neck.

Simon did like it, more than he should. His grip slackened and Nathan twisted his wrist out of Simon’s hand. He was moaning himself as he trailed wet kisses down Simon’s neck, his movements becoming even less controlled as he rubbed Simon through his trousers. 

Nathan unzipped Simon’s trousers, slipping his hand inside. Simon’s hips bucked and he whined, not knowing what to do. This wasn’t his sort of thing. Nathan was the one who had drunk, meaningless sex. 

God, Nathan was _wasted_. Simon shoved Nathan off and got up quickly, doing up his trousers with shaking hands. How could he have let this go so far?

“Simon? What’s wrong?” Nathan called after him as Simon hurried down the stairs, slamming the main doors behind him. 

The cold air outside hit him like a slap to the face, clearing Simon’s head. That couldn’t have just happened, it couldn’t. Nathan had kissed him and actually used his name and this couldn’t be real. It had to all be some kind of joke that was going to end with Simon heartbroken and hurt because Nathan couldn’t want him. Nathan was straight. _Simon_ was straight.

He was doing so well.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was an absolute bitch to write. Hopefully the next few chapters will be better and more timely…

4 new message(s) from: Nathan  
1 new multimedia message(s) from: Nathan

Nathan looked hungover and miserable at community service. The whole time they were getting changed, he kept sneaking glances at Simon in the reflection of the mirror. As usual, the attention made Simon uncomfortable. It felt worse after what had happened; he didn’t know whether to talk to Nathan about it or just pretend it never had. Simon yanked his jumpsuit over his shoulders and hurriedly zipped it up, anxious to be covered.

The multiple unopened texts on his phone made him uneasy. Knowing Nathan, they could be anything from declarations of love to dick pics. All of them were from about three in the morning, just after Simon had left the centre, so Nathan had probably still been drunk at the time. 

After carefully hanging up his shirt, Simon closed his locker and turned to follow the others out. He and Nathan were alone in the locker room—the exact situation he’d wanted to avoid. Then again, maybe this was a blessing in disguise. If Simon got to Nathan before anyone else did, he had a better chance of ensuring this never left the two of them. 

Simon cleared his throat, mentally preparing himself for what was sure to be an unpleasant conversation. “Nathan?”

The other boy glanced over, seeming to perk up a little at the attention. “Yeah?”

“About last night...”

Nathan’s expression soured. “Can’t we just pretend it never happened and move on with our lives?”

“I think we should talk about it.” 

Simon needed to make Nathan believe that he hadn’t really wanted to do it. It wasn’t true, but it was safe. Nathan might want to forget about it now, with the humiliation fresh in his mind, then decide he needed to share the intimate details with the rest of the group. Simon knew the reactions wouldn’t be positive. They wouldn’t be as bad as Simon knew they could be, but his friends would treat him differently. Everyone always did. 

“I already know you’re not interested. Don’t have to rub in it.”

“What?” Simon frowned. 

“You literally ran away when I kissed you.”

“I didn’t think you meant it!”

“What if I did?” There was something worryingly hopeful in Nathan’s expression. He stepped a little closer, fully into Simon’s personal space, and rested his hand on the locker above Simon’s head.

Simon felt sick—and trapped. His back was against the locker, and with Nathan leaning in slightly, their height difference was pronounced. 

“I’m not bent,” Simon said harshly. 

Hurt flickered across Nathan’s face but he quickly suppressed it. He smacked his palm against the locker once, making Simon flinch, then straightened up and walked away, hands in pockets, as if unaffected by the whole thing. 

Simon slumped back against his locker. Nathan _liked_ him. Every comment, every touch, flashed through his mind, and suddenly it was so clear Simon didn’t know how he’d missed it. 

Why did he have to go and say that to Nathan? This was more than Simon had ever dared to hope for. He knew what it was like to confess to someone, and he’d thrown it back in Nathan’s face. It was just… completely unexpected. Nathan was _straight_. He was the straightest boy Simon knew. The list of stupid things Nathan had done to have sex with a girl was longer than Simon’s criminal record. 

Simon knew, deep down, that that was no indication that Nathan was heterosexual. He could be bi, or just desperate. Simon knew he wasn’t that attractive, but Nathan had proved multiple times that he would shag anything that moved. Maybe he just saw Simon as an easy target, willing to do anything for a little attention. He wouldn’t be entirely wrong.

Falling back into his old habit of talking himself out of everything that could possibly have a positive impact on his life was almost comforting. Simon sighed and pushed his hair back out of his face. 

The probation worker’s voice filtered into the locker room and Simon hurriedly joined the others, who were just about to start work. Shaun either didn’t notice Simon’s lateness or couldn’t be arsed commenting on it, and left them to work on the never-ending graffiti scrawled across the walls of the community centre. 

As usual, Nathan and Simon ended up next to each other. Simon wondered how many times Nathan had deliberately engineered that situation, but pushed the thought from his mind. He was still distracted for most of the morning, overly aware of Nathan’s every movement. 

A lack of focus wasn’t really a disadvantage for this task; in fact, most of them willingly zoned out to escape the sheer mind-numbing boredom of scrubbing walls. It did lead to an uncomfortable amount of accidental contact with Nathan. 

Heat prickled over Simon’s skin where Nathan’s hand had brushed his. He jerked it away hastily, prompting a cold glance from Nathan. He’d taken Simon’s reaction the wrong way, but Simon could hardly blame him. 

Nathan dug his phone out of his pocket and put his earphones in, turning up the volume until Simon could almost hear the music. Kelly was looking over at them every now and then, no doubt wondering what had caused Nathan’s subdued mood. Simon turned back to the wall, forcing his mind to stay on the task in the hope that Kelly wouldn’t hear anything incriminating in his thoughts. 

When it came to their break time, Nathan nicked a cigarette from Kelly and disappeared. Even though it was torture to wait, Simon didn’t follow Nathan until everyone else was preoccupied. Simon really wasn’t sure why he was doing this to himself. Perhaps his masochistic streak was a little wider than he’d thought. 

Nathan groaned and sat up on the table he’d been lying on. “Fuck’s sake, Barry. Can’t you go one day without stalking me?”

“I just wanted to talk—”

“If you’re worried about me perving on you in the locker room…” Nathan’s gaze dragged over Simon’s body, making him cross his arms over his chest. “Don’t be.”

“That’s not what I meant.” 

Nathan raised an eyebrow and blew a stream of smoke into Simon’s face.

“All your texts…” Simon attempted. 

“Oh, yeah. You might not want to open that photo.” Nathan tilted his head. “Or maybe you would. Last chance you’ll get to see it.”

Simon felt heat rise in his cheeks. 

Nathan slid off the table and flicked the ashy remains of his cigarette onto the concrete. “Fuck off. And stay away from me.” 

Simon watched Nathan walk away before taking the seat he’d just vacated. This was going to be a lot harder than Simon had anticipated, but Nathan couldn’t avoid him forever.

He gave it a good try.

…

Nathan had spent the rest of the day with Kelly. He hadn’t even looked in Simon’s general direction. It had hurt, but Simon understood. Kind of. He hadn’t been keen on being friends with Matt after what had happened, and what he’d done was just as bad. Well, almost; he hadn’t broken any of Nathan’s bones. 

Why did he even _like_ that scrawny, oversexed prick? Simon had to admit that he was sexually attracted to him, but appreciating Nathan’s looks didn’t mean he wanted to be his boyfriend. Nathan called Simon a paedophile on a regular basis, and while Simon had considered the possibility, he was pretty sure he didn’t get off on being verbally abused. It would have been easier if he could have fallen for one of the girls. Hell, even fancying _Curtis_ would be better than Nathan. 

Simon looked over at Alisha, walking out of the centre next to Curtis. He couldn’t pretend he hadn’t thought about the girls like that. He didn’t deserve to be friends with them, not after what he’d done. It had seemed like Simon was going to finish community service worse than when he’d started. 

Then Nathan had died. Simon glanced over, covertly watching Nathan. He was talking to Kelly about something. His hair was falling into his eyes and Simon felt a sudden urge to run his fingers through that mess of curls. Kelly met his eyes from over Nathan’s shoulder and Simon blushed, looking down at his phone.  
He had to be more careful. Simon had gotten used to censoring his thoughts around Kelly, not wanting Nathan to find out about his starring role in all of Simon’s wank fantasies… or worse, his sappy romantic daydreams. 

Kelly set off towards her flat, Nathan in tow. He must have offered to walk her home. Simon tamped down a flare of jealousy and followed them, hanging back a bit. His street was fairly close to the centre, but the short walk felt like it took hours as he watched Nathan and Kelly talk.

“You doing anything this weekend?”

“Some family bullshit.” Nathan shrugged. “It’s my mum’s birthday.”

“Did you get her anything?”

“Should I?” 

“She’s put up with you for twenty-two years, I think she deserves it.”

“Guess so.” Nathan sighed. “Can I borrow twenty quid?”

“No.”

Simon left Kelly and Nathan to their friendly teasing—or flirting, but he was optimistic enough to hope it wasn’t—as he turned down his street. His mum’s car was outside, a rare occurrence so early in the evening. 

“You’re home late.” Sarah greeted her son with a quick kiss on the cheek.

“You’re early,” he replied before heading up to his bedroom.

“Are you coming down for tea?”

Simon hesitated on the stairs. “I’m not hungry. Maybe later,” he added, feeling guilty at the way her face fell. 

“Alright. Tell your sister to come downstairs?”

Simon knocked on Chloe’s door on the way to his own bedroom. He’d go downstairs later, once he no longer felt like he was about to have a breakdown. Otherwise his mum would be up here, trying to get him to talk about how he’s feeling, and whether he thinks he needs to go back to therapy, and all kinds of questions that Simon would rather not answer.

His mother’s newfound interest in her kids’ lives was, on the one hand, welcome. Simon didn’t remember her being this… present since he was about five. However, his activities of late—killing people or kissing boys—weren’t something he wanted anyone getting too interested in. 

Simon sat on his bed in the dark and pulled his phone out. He still had a photo of him and Jessica as the wallpaper. She’d thought it was cute, so he’d kept it, even though Nathan teased him mercilessly when he’d seen it. 

Really, all of Nathan’s behaviour during that time, even after he’d accepted that Jessica hadn’t killed him, made a modicum more sense. If Simon accepted that Nathan fancied him, anyway. Simon was willing to believe that Nathan liked boys. Nathan had always struck him as someone who didn’t care who he was attracted to. 

Still, he wouldn’t want Simon. Not for a relationship outside the bedroom. Nathan would want someone… well, normal. Something that Simon was well aware he wasn’t. If he’d ever had a relationship that had lasted more than a few days, he’d probably have been more confident. As it was, his only attempt at romance had been with Jessica, and he was still smarting from that breakup. 

At the time, Simon had believed her when she’d said the breakup had been because of her dad—because there _really_ wasn’t any way to make that less uncomfortable. Later, he’d realised it had probably been because of him. He hadn’t had any clue how to date someone, and why would anyone want to waste their time teaching him?

The blue light of Simon’s phone screen lit up his bedroom. Nathan’s messages were still unopened, the tiny envelope icon flashing on the lock screen. If he read them, their relationship might never be the same. 

It was for the best.

4 new message(s) from: Nathan  
1 new multimedia message(s) from: Nathan  
Delete selected messages?  
…  
5 messages deleted.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for emetophobia on this chapter.

 

New message

To: Nathan

_~~I’m really sor~~ _

_~~Can we talk?~~ _

_~~Stop being such a~~ _

 

Simon glared at his phone. It was innocently sitting there on the bed, where he’d thrown it after utterly failing to compose a text that would get Nathan to forgive him—or possibly take his clothes off.

It was late Sunday afternoon, and Simon hadn’t heard from Nathan all weekend. No texts, no tweets, not so much as an inappropriately sexual post on his Facebook wall. Simon was missing him, and he hated himself for it. Anyone else would be grateful for a break from getting tagged in explicit gay porn videos with the comment ‘made me think of you xx’.

Unless that was Nathan’s way of flirting, and Simon was just too oblivious to notice. It wasn’t hard to believe that a twat like Nathan had never grown out of that phase when teasing someone meant you fancied them.

Simon nudged the mouse and the computer screen lit up to display Nathan’s Facebook profile. Simon had been home alone all day, his mother and sister at some school thing for gifted kids, and he’d filled in the time with some online stalking. He wasn’t proud of it, but it was better than actual invisible stalking.

Simon scrolled through Nathan’s page, lingering on the occasional photo Nathan had chosen to upload. Most of them were blurry, shitty shots taken in nightclubs, which somehow still made Nathan look good. Nathan’s latest status update was from a few days earlier, a complaint about community service. The comments contained a lengthy conversation between him, Kelly, and Alisha. Curtis, not having a profile, was absent. Simon hadn’t been tagged.

He’d only made the account at Nathan’s insistence. Simon hadn’t put up any photos, or even added any friends beside Nathan and the girls. Simon clicked back to his own page. The only post was a lengthy status update on how much he supposedly loved cock. Not the most elaborate of Nathan’s efforts, but effective. It was dated a week ago, before everything had gone bad between them. It was almost prophetic, Simon thought, as he read the sentences detailing exactly what he supposedly wanted to do to Nathan.

Simon methodically deleted the post and updated his password. Nathan would find it out again, of course he would. If he ever put the same level of determination into anything worthwhile, he could take over the world. It was a chilling thought.

Simon would forever deny how quickly he grabbed his phone when it finally vibrated with a text alert, Nathan’s name flashing on the screen.

 

2 new message(s) from: Nathan

_were at the bar on the estate. want a drink?_

_its kelly btw my phones dead_

 

Simon tossed the phone back on his bed. He should have known.

Despite knowing that Nathan wouldn’t be happy to see him, Simon was thinking about joining the others. It had to be better than staying at home revisiting the numerous situations in which he’d fucked up over the past week.

Simon shoved his phone and wallet into his pocket and headed downstairs. His mum was sitting at the table. Simon had been planning on just leaving a note, even if she had come home. It wasn’t exactly healthy, but he had gotten into the habit of avoiding any risk of uncomfortable conversation.

“Are you going out?”

“Yeah. I’m seeing my friends.”

Sarah looked surprised, and Simon really couldn’t blame her. He hadn’t had friends since he was in school, and those relationships had been questionable at best.

“I can stay home,” he added. “I didn’t know you were going to be back.”

“No. No, go out.”

Simon nodded, unsure of himself. Sarah joined him at the door and hugged him quickly. She never used to do that. Simon realised, feeling guilty, that it was because he used to flinch away from even her touch.

“Have fun. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Simon nodded and slipped out the door before she could ask exactly where he’d met his friends. He’d arguably committed the worst crime out of the whole group, but no one outside of community service knew that. Simon really didn’t need a lecture on drugs and sex; not that his mother was likely to give him one.

Simon got to the pub too quickly for him to mentally prepare himself. He could deal with Nathan, if it came to that, but if he’d said anything to Kelly, Simon was fucked. The worst part was that Kelly could outright punch him in the face and the whole time Simon would know he completely deserved it.

Even on a Sunday night, the pub was packed. Simon still found the others relatively quickly, spotting them at a table in the corner. He saw Nathan crying into Kelly’s shoulder, Curtis, Alisha, and Nikki all pretending they weren’t with them. Simon needed a drink.

He managed to find a spot at the bar, but actually ordering was a little more difficult. The bartenders went so long without noticing him that Simon almost checked to see if he was still visible. Someone walked up next to him and Simon glanced over to see a girl around his age.

“Hey,” she said, giving him a quick smile.

“Hi.”

“Pretty busy, huh? Been waiting long?”

“Uh, yeah.”

The girl leaned over the bar and waved, getting the bartender’s attention.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” She smiled at him again, turning to face him.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Simon could feel himself blushing.

“Sure. I’m Cass.”

“Simon.”

In between ordering drinks, Simon shot a quick look over at his friends’ table. Nathan was watching him, looking sulky. At least he’d stopped crying.

When Nathan realised Simon was looking at him, he drained his glass and Kelly wrapped her arm around him.

“Are you doing anything later?”

Simon bit his lip. It didn’t feel right to accept, after what had happened with Nathan, but Cass was a pretty girl and she seemed actually _interested in Simon_.

“No—”

“Barry!” Nathan threw himself on Simon, pressing a wet kiss to his cheek.

“Fuck off,” Simon muttered.

“Friend of yours?” Cass asked.

“Yeah.”

“Kelly said to tell you to stop being such a wanker,” Nathan informed him.

“I’m not—”

“You are.” Nathan leaned against him, his lips brushing Simon’s ear. “I still want you.”

Simon could feel himself blushing. Cass’ friends are talking to each other, throwing amused glances over at him. They must have looked so gay. Simon shoved Nathan off, harder than he intended.

It was the first real flare of anger that he’d felt towards Nathan in a long time. He’d come in and fucked everything up for Simon, like he always did. Simon probably should have been pissed off at Kelly, because she was sober and seemed as intent on ruining Simon’s life as Nathan was, but he wasn’t. Kelly was trying to look out for her friend; Nathan was just being a dick.

“I need to piss,” Nathan announced before wobbling off to the toilets.

Simon watched him go, reluctantly putting his drink down on the bar. “I should go with him.”

“He’s not going to need help,” Cass pointed out.

“He’s drunk. He’ll hurt himself.”

She shrugged and turned back to her friends.

Simon was going to _kill_ Nathan. It wouldn’t last, but it might make him feel better.

He found Nathan in the toilets. The other boy was leaning up against the wall and absently humming along to the song playing outside. He looked a mess, and Simon wondered why Kelly let him get so drunk.

“Hey,” Simon said quietly.

Nathan whipped around then stumbled, and Simon automatically reached to steady him.

“Barry!” Nathan pulled him closer, nuzzling into his neck again. He stank of alcohol.

“Have you taken anything?” Simon shoved Nathan off and cupped his jaw, forcing him to meet Simon’s eyes.

“Just shots.”

Simon sighed. He was getting a horrific sense of déjà vu. “Come on, let’s go.”

“It’s too cold,” Nathan complained. He was actually shivering, dressed only in one of those thin t-shirts that Simon liked so much because of how well they showed off Nathan’s body—

Simon shook his head, tamping down those unwelcome thoughts. He pulled his jacket off and draped it around Nathan’s shoulders.

“Won’t you be cold?”

“I’m fine.”

Nathan clumsily tugged it on, tugging the denim cuffs down over his hands. It was far too big for his narrow frame. He made some slurred comment about Simon’s shoulders as he pulled the jacket tighter around himself.

“What?”

“When did you get that built?” Nathan mumbled.

“I think we should take you home.”

“I’m not that kind of girl.”

“You’re drunk. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“’m immortal.”

Simon moved forward, fully intending to drag Nathan outside and let Kelly deal with this.

“Why are you doing this?” Nathan asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re looking after me,” he mumbled. “It’s nice.”

“Why wouldn’t I help you?”

“You hate me.”

“I could never hate you. We’re friends.” Simon brushed an errant curl out of Nathan’s eyes. “You’re my best friend,” he added, not liking the glossy sheen of tears in Nathan’s eyes.

“I don’t _want_ to be friends,” Nathan muttered petulantly. “I want…” His tongue darted out to wet his lips. He tilted his head, his lips parted slightly.

Simon could feel Nathan’s breath on his skin, the heat of his body. They were so close. Simon could hear his heartbeat pounding as Nathan leaned in, his eyes slipping closed as their lips brushed—

“Oh, _fuck!_ ” Nathan choked out before jerking away to puke in the sink.

Simon sighed and rubbed Nathan’s back, trying to suppress the urge to scream.

…

Simon woke up with a pounding headache. He groaned and rolled over, burying his face in his pillow. The phone kept up its tinny shrieking, uncaring of how the sound drilled into Simon’s skull.

It took him a few tries to grab the phone, and even more to shut the bloody thing up. Simon realised that the sound was his alarm, rather than the ringtone, and actually whimpered into his pillow at the thought of going to community service. He’d get his mum to call and say he was sick—because there was no way Shaun would believe Simon if he did it—but she’d probably make him go with a hangover to teach him a lesson.

Simon’s memories of last night were, unfortunately, crystal clear. The girl at the bar had left, probably sometime while Simon was coaxing Nathan into drinking water and trying to avoid throwing up himself. Nathan had given him some starry-eyed, lovesick look all night after that, even when Simon hauled him out of the toilets and handed him back to Kelly.

On his way home, Simon had stopped at the off-licence, ending up with a bottle of vodka. He’d finished the night (and the bottle) with a drunken, frustrated wank that had somehow left him feeling less satisfied than when he’d started. At least that explained his headache—and why his boxers were sticking to his balls.

All in all, the only positive of the night was that Nathan hadn’t gotten any vomit on Simon’s favourite jacket. He had ended up taking it home, though, so Simon was probably never going to see it again.

Simon rolled out of bed and stood up, wincing as his bare feet hit the floor. His sister was shouting something to their mum from opposite ends of the house, and Simon pressed his knuckles into his eyes. He wanted to _die_. Still in his boxers and t-shirt, Simon stumbled to the bathroom in search of painkillers. This had to be the worst hangover he’d ever had. Even the morning after that night with Jamie hadn’t been so bad, and Simon still didn’t know what he’d been on. Anyway, he’d sobered up pretty quickly when he and Kelly had had to tackle Nathan out of the way of that car.

Simon’s hand finally closed around a box of paracetamol. He took two, swallowing them dry, and resolutely avoided looking in the mirror as he stripped and turned the shower on. The warm water helped a little, at least with the sticky feeling that always seemed to accompany a visit to one of the many pubs on the estate where wiping up spilled alcohol was low on the list of priorities. 

Simon toyed with the idea of having a wank, despite his headache, but quickly dismissed it. After the previous night, he’d be completely incapable of thinking of anything other than Nathan. The situation was getting confusing enough on its own without adding more sexual frustration into the mix.

At least Simon knew that Nathan didn’t hate him anymore. Well, he hoped that Nathan didn’t hate him anymore; although Simon had to admit it was a little concerning. Had Nathan thought that taking care of him was Simon’s way of admitting to fancying him? Because if he had… Simon didn’t want to think about what might happen when they saw each other again.

By the time Simon got out of the shower, the house was blissfully quiet and he should have left fifteen minutes ago. Breakfast was sacrificed in the interest of not suffering at the hands of a sadistic probation worker, and it wasn’t long before Simon was at the centre. He was still late, but no one had changed into their jumpsuits yet. Nathan was nowhere to be seen, but Simon thought he could hear the shower running in the next room.

Someone slammed their locker door shut and Simon winced.

“Are you hungover?” Kelly asked.

“A bit.”

“So am I. Brought Nathan back last night, ended up getting pissed.”

“Is he alright?”

“Yeah. Bastard’s not even sick this morning. He told me some stuff about you,” Kelly added casually.

“Like what?”

“That you had a fight. He said it’s over.” Kelly glanced at him, clearly looking for any more information.

“It is.” Simon went quiet as Nathan wandered in.

Nathan paused in the doorway and glanced at Simon, gaze lingering on his jaw. Simon ran a hand over his face, self-conscious. He hadn’t bothered to shave that morning in fear of accidentally cutting his throat with the razor. He wasn’t sure if the attention was because Nathan appreciated the stubble or just because Simon looked like shit.

Simon distracted himself from that potentially dangerous train of thought by opening his locker.

His jacket was hanging up in front of his jumpsuit. Simon looked over at Nathan, catching his eye in the mirror, and offered him a small smile. Nathan returned it briefly, before zipping up his jumpsuit and closing his locker.

Simon’s attention was drawn away from Nathan when Curtis gasped, his grip on his deodorant slackening. The can fell to the floor unheeded as Curtis looked around the room.

“Are you alright?” Kelly asked.

“There’s something we need to do.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope I did Curtis and Alisha justice; this is the first chapter they’re really in.  
> It’s also way harder than I thought to write this without having Simon and Alisha end up together, because so much of the plot is a direct result of that relationship. Including Curtis and Nikki getting together, but I put them in the last chapter anyway ~~oops~~.

 

“ _Cheese_?” Nathan shook his head in disbelief. “I mean, that has to be the shittest fucking power…”

“Still better than mine,” Alisha said.

“At least you can still get laid. No one wants to shag the bloke with the dairy fetish.”

“Is anyone taking this seriously?” Curtis demanded.

Nathan shrugged. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“Did you listen to anything I said?”

“Not really.”

“He _killed_ all of you.”

“With his cheese powers.”

“Of course that’s the only thing you care about,” Kelly muttered.

“Anyway, he couldn’t have killed me.”

“Because you’re the only one who matters?”

“I’m immortal,” Nathan declared, doing a fantastic job of completely ignoring Alisha.

“He made you brain-dead.” Curtis jabbed at the button for the doorbell.

“No different to usual,” Alisha said.

“Shut up.” Nathan turned back to Curtis. “If he’s such a psycho, how did you get out of there?”

“He was about to stab me when I used my power.”

“I’m calling bullshit on that one,” Nathan said. “You do your rewind shit, you’re standing there looking all constipated for like thirty seconds. Plenty of time for someone to gut you.”

“I said he tried. He got Simon instead.”

“He stabbed me?” Simon asked before Nathan could derail the conversation yet again.

“You were invisible. You got between me and him.” Curtis rang the doorbell again. “Thanks, by the way.”

“Do you love him?” Nathan asked while Simon was still processing that information.

“Fuck off,” Curtis groaned.

“I don’t know, man. The whole self-sacrificing bullshit seems like a declaration of love to me.”

“Shut up, I can hear him coming,” Kelly whispered.

They all went quiet, shifting nervously as footsteps approached the other side of the door. The door swung open, and in two seconds flat Brian was on the floor with blood gushing from his nose.

“Now what?” Kelly asked.

Curtis shrugged, rubbing his knuckles.

“You said he had recordings,” Alisha said. “We should find them.”

“I don’t know when he made them. No one found about our powers for a few days.”

“We should check. Simon, do you know how to get into his computer?”

“I can try.” Really, Simon didn’t think he could; they’d probably have better luck asking Nathan. The skills he’d exhibited in getting into Simon’s various devices were unparalleled.

Simon helped Kelly and Curtis drag the unconscious Brian into the living room, out of the doorway. His camera was set up on the kitchen table, and Simon quickly ejected the memory card and pocketed it.

“His computer’s in here,” Alisha called from the bedroom.

Nathan yawned and pressed his hands into the small of his back, arching forwards. “I’m going to take a piss in his sink,” he announced to no-one in particular, wandering off to find the bathroom.

Simon and the others joined Alisha in the bedroom. The ancient computer was still booting up and Simon slipped into the desk seat. There were a few words scribbled on a post-it note stuck to the computer. Once the screen prompted him for the password, Simon tried them in order, and the second one revealed the desktop.

For a serial killer, Brian wasn’t particularly good at covering his tracks.

Simon had spent a few minutes searching through files when Nathan came out of the bathroom and went straight to the desk. He leaned over Simon to look at the screen, one hand on Simon’s shoulder. Kelly and Curtis exchanged amused looks.

“What’s so funny?” Nathan asked.

“Nothing,” they said almost in unison.

Alisha gave Kelly a questioning look and Kelly leaned over to whisper something in her ear that left both girls stifling laughter.

“That’s not suspicious at all,” Nathan said, glaring at the girls.

“Just get on with it,” Kelly snapped.

Simon returned to the files, clicking on one at random.

Nathan groaned. “Oh, that is _filthy_.”

Simon closed the video player, his cheeks burning.

“Hang on, I want a copy of those.” Nathan grabbed the mouse. “He’s probably got some kinky shit in there. I bet he’s into breastfeeding.”

“Fuck off!” Simon wrestled the mouse back off Nathan.

“Stop dicking around,” Kelly warned them.

Simon changed the folder view to thumbnails, not wanting any more unpleasant surprises in full-screen HD.

“Hey.” Nathan nudged him. “Do you reckon he was one of those kids who had milk leaking out of his man-boobs?” His hands crept down over Simon’s chest. “There was one at my school. This fat kid.”

“Don’t touch me!”

“We used to milk him every lunchtime,” Nathan reminisced, massaging Simon’s chest as he spoke.

Simon knocked Nathan’s hands away.

“Alright, calm down.”

There was a groan from the other room, and the others hurried out of the bedroom. Fed up with looking through endless porn, Simon dragged the entire video folder to the recycle bin then deleted it permanently.

“You know, you shouldn’t fuck with a man’s porn collection.”

“He tried to kill us.”

“Technically he did.” Nathan sighed wistfully. “That was a good stash, though.”

Simon chose not to comment on the locker stuffed full of questionable magazines back at the centre. He stood up, dislodging Nathan who had still been leaning on the back of his chair. Things had gone awfully quiet in the kitchen.

They walked out to find Brian on the floor with blood oozing from a fresh gash on his forehead.

“Jesus.” Nathan peered at the prone body. “We leave you alone for five minutes, and look what happens.”

“Is he dead?” Simon asked.

“Don’t know,” Alisha replied. “He woke up and tried to run. Smashed his head on the table.”

Nathan snorted. “Oh, come on,” he said when everyone looked at him. “That’s pathetic.”

“Should we do something?” Simon moved a step further away from the spreading pool of blood.

“He did try to kill us,” Kelly pointed out.

“Fuck it,” Curtis declared.

Nathan shrugged and headed for the door.

The others exchanged a quick look and followed him. Nathan was already walking off in the opposite direction to the centre.

“Where are you going?” Kelly called. “We’ve still got half the day.”

“I’m taking a mental health day. Barry, you coming?”

“Fuck that,” Alisha said. “We’ll have to do all the work while you two are sucking each other off.”

“Sounds good to me.” Nathan looked expectantly at Simon. “Are you coming or not?”

Simon glanced at the others and slowly shook his head.

Nathan shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged, like he couldn’t care less, but Simon could see by the set of his jaw that he was pissed off as he walked away.

“Let’s go, yeah?” Kelly said. “We’ve been here long enough. Someone might notice something.”

Simon hung back behind the others as they made their way back to the centre. He just wished he knew what Nathan wanted. At least during the tattoo incident Nathan was actually _nice_.

Simon looked up from the concrete when Kelly slowed to walk beside him. “He’s not mad at you,” she said.

“He is.”

“Well, yeah. But he’ll get over it.”

Simon shrugged. “He seemed angry.”

“He fancies you. He told me. And I know you like him—”

Simon caught her sleeve, forcing her to stop. “You can’t tell anyone!”

“I’m not going to. But you should talk to him.”

“I’ve tried. He won’t listen.” Simon glanced away from Kelly, knowing that she knew he was lying. He only hoped that she found the whole situation either too pathetic or too amusing to threaten him for being a wanker.

“You know what Nathan’s like. You have to try harder with him.” Kelly started off towards the centre again and Simon hurried after her.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do that.”

Kelly shrugged. “Get him drunk?

“I don’t think he’s not been drunk since last week,” Simon muttered.

The last few hours of community service started with a bollocking from Shaun, and continued in the same vein until they were finally dismissed, exhausted and covered in dirt from the outdoor work they’d been punished with. No one wanted to do anything but go home, shower, and sleep.

Simon was halfway home, planning on doing just that, when he slipped his hand into his pocket and found it empty. He _never_ forgot his phone. Simon nervously bit at his thumbnail as he considered going back to the centre. Nathan might be there.

Nathan… Could he have stolen it? Simon knew Nathan thought it was funny when Simon had to beg him to give his phone back. Even when Simon eventually got angry—but not enough to hit him, not quite—Nathan just laughed it off.

No, Nathan was a prick, but he wouldn’t do that; subtlety wasn’t his style. He’d be more likely to paper the inside of Simon’s locker with gay porn. Simon wasn’t sure exactly what was wrong with him, but somehow Nathan’s behaviour had never quite managed to put him off.

Simon turned and headed back to the centre. Dealing with Nathan, if he was even there, was one thing; making it through a day without his phone was quite another. It was one of the many things, along with shoelaces, razors, and any sense of independence, that hadn’t been allowed in the unit.

The front entrance of the centre was closed, but Simon knew that Shaun rarely bothered to lock the back door. Simon hoped that that was the case that night, because the only other way in was the window Nathan snuck out of and that was only really accessible for people with slim shoulders and barely an ounce of body fat.

Simon tried the door and it swung open with a creak, the only sound in the centre. There were no signs of life either on the mezzanine or in the main room, which was lit only by the cold glow of the vending machines—and, as Simon realised when he entered the corridor, the light coming from the locker room. He was sure it had been off when they left earlier, and only hoped that if Nathan was in there, it wasn’t because he’d decided on some quality time with his magazines.

Simon never thought he’d ever have to awkwardly listen for the sounds of his best friend masturbating before he entered a room, but there he was. He carefully peered around the doorway and caught a glimpse of Nathan, leaning up against one of the lockers.

Simon took a few cautious steps inside, but was stopped by a groan from Nathan. Simon hadn’t been able to see much past the row of lockers, but he could no longer overlook the girl on her knees in front of Nathan, her face buried between his thighs and Nathan’s hands tangled in her hair.

Simon stumbled backwards, feeling as if the breath had been knocked out of him. He found himself outside, leaning against the hard brick wall of the hallway. He barely noticed flickering out of sight, the pain going un-noticed in the crushing mix of anger and jealousy. Simon swiped the back of his hand over his eyes, frustrated at the sting of tears.

How could Nathan do that to—

Simon cut that thought off before it could finish. Nathan wasn’t _cheating_ on him. They weren’t together; why would they ever be? Simon knew Nathan was attracted to him on some level, he wouldn’t have kissed him otherwise, but that was just _sex_ , just like everything else for Nathan, and Simon wanted _more_.

He wanted Nathan; everything about him, and he’d only ever been lying to himself when he said he didn’t.

Simon always knew he wanted to fuck Nathan, but somewhere along the line he’d started wanting to kiss him too, just like when his daydreams about Matt went from wondering what a blowjob felt like to thinking about playing video games together and kissing him after school.

And just like with Matt, Simon’s silly little romance fantasies were never going to happen. He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to force his breathing to slow. Simon didn’t know how long he stood there, trying to just fucking move so the world would stop greying out and return him to visibility. Every time he closed his eyes he only saw Nathan, leaning his head back against the locker, eyes closed and jaw relaxed in pleasure, his shaft slick with spit as he thrust into the girl’s mouth…

Simon dug his nails into his bare forearm, the dull pain breaking him out of the memory. All his anger had dissipated, leaving him feeling drained. He might have been able to convince himself that there was something there between him and the other boy, but he was lying to himself. He’d been worried about leading Nathan on; now it seemed like Nathan was only ever playing with him.

The sound of voices made Simon glance up. The girl Nathan had been with stormed out of the locker room, pulling her shirt back into place. Nathan called after her, but she ignored him. Nathan stopped right in front of Simon. He cursed under his breath and ran a hand through his hair.

They were so close Simon could see everything in minute detail, from the tiny cut on Nathan’s jaw where he’d cut himself shaving right down to the subtle variations of colour in his irises. Simon had never been able to get this close to Nathan without being accused of trying to come onto him. Simon flattened himself against the wall, barely breathing with the fear of accidentally touching Nathan.

It was only a second before Nathan went back into the locker room, finally zipping up his jeans. Simon waited another few minutes, but Nathan didn’t emerge and eventually Simon had to just go in. He was visible by the time he entered the locker room, although invisibility would have been a comfort.

Simon quietly walked in and went straight to his locker, where he was met by Nathan. He glanced at Nathan then looked away, his cheeks burning.

“What are you doing here?” Nathan pulled his t-shirt back on, covering up his bare chest.

“I forgot my phone. I came back to get it but you were… with her.”

“Were you _listening_ , you pervert?”

“I wasn’t! I saw you in here and I left.” Simon yanked his locker door open, putting a physical barrier between him and Nathan. His phone was sitting on the metal shelf at the top. Simon grabbed it and shoved it in his pocket, anxious to escape this awkward situation.

Nathan backed off, leaning against the locker next to Simon’s own.

“I’m sorry,” Simon said impulsively. “About earlier.”

“I just wanted to bunk off. Didn’t need you holding my hand.”

“I meant last week.”

Nathan just shrugged, leaving Simon fighting back a burst of frustration. Why should he even care? Nathan wasn’t his boyfriend. They were barely friends—but community service ended in a week. He couldn’t let it end with Nathan hating him.

“Just forget about it, alright? Pretend it didn’t happen, you’re good at that.” Nathan yanked his locker door open, rummaging through its contents.

“I’m trying to explain!”

“You don’t need to! God, can’t you just reject me like a normal person and leave me to have my rebound shags in peace?”

Simon’s stomach dropped as he registered the plural, and his gaze flicked down to the strip of condoms stuffed in Nathan’s pocket.

Nathan must have noticed the change in his expression. “What, you’re the only one who’s allowed to pull girls?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Wait, are you…” Nathan laughed. “Are you jealous?”

“No!”

“Why do you care who I’m shagging, then?”

“I don’t,” Simon said weakly.

“Do yourself a favour, alright?” Nathan said. “Strap on a set of balls and go out and get fucked up the arse. Might loosen you up a little.”

Simon summoned up all his courage to spit out a “fuck you” as Nathan shoved past him.

Nathan stuck his hand up behind him, index and middle fingers extended, as he left the room.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for brief mention of homophobic violence.

“Are you okay?” Sarah was curled up on the sofa, her feet tucked under her and her hands wrapped around a mug of tea.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Simon asked, a little harsher than he intended. He hadn’t expected to be accosted so early in the morning.

“You’ve been home a lot,” she began hesitantly.

Simon looked at her in disbelief.

“If you need to talk to someone again—”

“I have to go, I’m late.” As he left, abandoning all hopes of breakfast or coffee, Simon reflected on the irony of just how much therapy he’d be getting if his mother had any idea what he actually did most of the time he wasn’t home.

Simon got to the centre fifteen minutes early—still at least twenty before anyone else would arrive. Once he might have shown up to find one of the doors propped open, a clear invitation to come in and buy Nathan breakfast. They’d sit on Nathan’s mattress and split a bag of crisps while Nathan talked about whatever came into his mind. Simon was pretty sure that it had been the time when Nathan had shoved half a bar of chocolate into his mouth and it hadn’t put him off that he’d realised that he was well and truly screwed.

Simon considered, without much commitment, trying the doors to see if any were unlocked. He could go inside, invisible; Nathan wouldn’t know. Although at this time in the morning, Nathan might be still asleep. Or taking a shower. Simon shifted in his seat, trying not to let his mind linger on the image of Nathan standing naked under the spray of water—

“Hi.” Alisha was standing in front of Simon. “Can I sit down?”

Simon shifted his bag to the floor and Alisha sat down next to him, so close he could almost feel her thigh against his. The hem of her shorts revealed smooth bare skin that Simon caught himself looking at for just a second too long.

“Have you seen this?” Alisha held out a page that had been ripped from a newspaper.

Simon took it carefully. He was never completely sure where he stood with Alisha. He’d fancied her, and he supposed he still did a bit, but never with any real belief that anything would come of it. Not in this universe, anyway. He returned his attention to the clipping. There was a half-page article accompanied by a grainy shot of a figure standing on a balcony, their hood pulled down over their face.

“They’re trying to be a superhero,” he said.

“I think they might have powers. If they tell anyone, someone might find out about us.” Alisha took the paper back, nearly brushing Simon’s hand with her own. “We can’t let that happen.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I think we need to find them. It said they’ve been around the estate. We should try to find out who it is.”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Because I knew you’d give a fuck.” Alisha stuffed the paper back into her bag. “You don’t have to.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“Thanks.” Alisha smiled at him then looked away quickly.

There was a bang from the side of the building as Nathan wriggled out of the window and let the frame drop back into place. He wandered over to the centre’s front door. Simon noticed his expression harden as he looked between Simon and Alisha, but he didn’t comment.

“Haven’t you got a key?” Alisha asked.

Nathan shrugged. “Lost it.” He fished a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and took one before offering the pack to Alisha.

She took one and Nathan leaned down to light it for her. Simon watched them with a combination of jealousy and weird, heated _desire_ twisting in his stomach. He dropped his gaze to the concrete, ignoring the weight of Nathan’s gaze on him. The three of them sat in silence, Simon wondering if it was as uncomfortable for the others as it was for him, until Shaun let them inside.

Simon was already at his locker when Nathan came into the room. Simon expected to be ignored again; he wasn’t prepared for Nathan’s hand on his lower back, Nathan’s body brushing up against Simon’s as he passed unnecessarily closely on his way to his locker. Heat pooled in Simon’s stomach at the unexpected touch. Nathan removed his hand, letting it graze Simon’s arse as he moved past. The whole thing had taken less than a second, but it had left Simon feeling hot and embarrassingly shaky.

He glanced at the mirror, meeting Nathan’s reflected gaze. Simon looked away quickly, but couldn’t help returning. Nathan kept sneaking looks into the mirror to make sure he still had Simon’s attention as he pulled his t-shirt off, taking his time to reveal inch by teasing inch of pale, tattooed skin. Simon couldn’t look away as Nathan deliberately bent at the waist to shove his jeans down over his thighs. This behaviour was nothing new, Nathan took any opportunity to provide them all with a striptease, but in the locker room with no one but Simon and an oblivious Curtis as his only audience…

Curtis slammed his locker door shut and Simon snapped his gaze back to his own locker, hurriedly stripping his shirt off to get changed into his jumpsuit.

As soon as they were dressed and out of the locker room, Shaun had dismissed them to clean graffiti, or “waste some more time, I really don’t give a shit as long as you’re not bothering me.”

Nathan’s strange behaviour, and worry over what Alisha had told him, had Simon distracted and irritable most of the morning. As soon as they’d had a chance to take a break, Simon had disappeared and gone outside just to avoid having to talk to anyone. He’d taken over one of the picnic tables outside near the lake, which was the same dull, flat grey as the pavement.

Nathan was a few metres away. He’d wandered over to have another cigarette, completely unaware of his audience. Simon had tried smoking once, but he’d thrown the packet out after the first cigarette. He hadn’t liked the taste or the way it made his throat feel. He looked at Nathan and wondered if he would feel the same if he were tasting that ash and smoke on Nathan’s tongue… and if he’d ever have another chance to find out.

Simon didn’t know if Nathan would understand. He had thought that maybe, somewhere under that exterior, that Nathan would know how it felt to be hurt. Maybe he’d pushed it down so far that he’d forgotten. Simon glanced down at his phone. He’d been flicking through the photos, subconsciously searching for one in particular. It was a closeup of Nathan; Simon had complimented him after he’d taken that photo, something stupid, and Nathan had called him gay.

It made Simon think of seeing _Bellamy sucks cock_ written in a familiar scrawl on the wall of the boys’ toilets, not a week before the seventeenth birthday he’d spent in hospital. It could have been worse; they’d only broken his wrist.

Simon remembered not wanting to cry, but once he was on the ground with blood in his mouth and in his throat, making him choke on it, what he wanted didn’t matter and he cried anyway, and all it got him was a hard kick in the balls. He’d puked there on the concrete, and Matt’s best friend Jason had called Simon a pussy and a fag and then stomped on his wrist. Simon remembered the sound of his wrist breaking, then not much at all.

There were investigations, debates of bullying or just fighting, as if it could have been a fair fight, and a month of Simon’s father not even fucking looking at him like he could pretend he didn’t know the reason why that had happened to his son.

Simon looked back at Nathan, watching the way he slid to the ground, his back against the wall. He was hunched over, curled protectively around his cigarette. It didn’t look right; Nathan was meant to take up space.

Simon’s thoughts returned to him throughout the day, until they were nearly finished with the day. Once back in the company of others, Nathan had fallen back into his usual role—including his habit of touching Simon. It was no longer just friendly pats on the arm and so on, but had turned into an almost ridiculous amount of contact between Nathan and parts of Simon that made him blush just thinking about it. It was like Nathan was _trying_ to make him sexually frustrated.

“This is fucking shit,” Nathan announced. He was lounging in one of the centre’s wheelchairs, jumpsuit unzipped all the way, watching on as Simon and Curtis stacked boxes.

“You could help,” Curtis pointed out.

“Why would I want to do that?”

“So we can leave on time?” Simon said.

“’Cause you’ve got such a full social schedule. What’s next on the agenda, going home to sexually violate a small animal?”

“Are you actually capable of shutting up for ten seconds?” Curtis asked.

“Mate, this is _shit_ ,” Nathan repeated as if they hadn’t heard him any of the five previous times. “Look at us. Doing manual labour when we’re one anonymous tip to the media away from shagging hookers on piles of money.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Us. Rich, famous, living in a hotel.”

“You all _died_.”

Nathan made a dismissive gesture. “Because of the cheese psycho. Him out of the way, there’s nothing stopping us.”

“If it’s not him, it will be someone else,” Simon said.

“Alright, Barry’s social adjustment issues aside, look at our situation here! We’ve all got ASBOs—”

“I don’t,” Curtis reminded him.

“No one gives a fuck. All I’m saying is that we’ve got _superpowers_. We should be taking advantage of them.” Nathan paused. “And our future adoring fans.”

“You said you didn’t want to use our powers,” Simon said.

“Yeah, for things like helping people. I’m talking about getting laid here.” Nathan leaned over the side of the chair to look at Simon upside-down. “Think about how much easier it would be for you to hide in the closet wanking.”

Curtis glanced at Simon, but before he could say anything about Nathan’s word choice Shaun was shouting at them from his office.

“Oi, you lot, fuck off! It’s five.” Shaun gestured towards the locker room with his mug of coffee.

“Prick,” Curtis muttered.

By the time they got to the locker room, the girls had already gotten changed and packed up.

“Took you long enough,” Kelly said. “Look at this.” She thrust out a piece of paper.

Curtis took it, skimming the note.

“It was taped to my locker,” Alisha said.

“Not this again,” Nathan groaned. “Does no one have any creativity anymore?”

“What does it say?” Simon asked. He’d started taking his jumpsuit off, not caring that the girls were still there. No-one would be looking at him anyway, not while Nathan was already down to his pants.

“Some bullshit about how we should be helping people.” Alisha glanced around. “With our powers,” she said quietly.

“We have to find out who wrote it.”

“Fuck that,” Nathan said as he pulled his jeans on. “Last time you two teamed up to solve crime, I ended up getting shot in the head.”

Simon remembered that with awful clarity. He’d been chained up, helpless—all of them had been—as Nathan had tried to run. He’d escaped the chainsaw, but Tim’s gun had sent him sprawling across the dirty concrete, his brains splattered in a bloody halo.

Simon realised he’d been staring at Nathan and tore his gaze away.

“—have to do something,” Alisha was saying.

“Hey, I don’t really give a fuck, alright? Just keep me out of the firing range.” Nathan shoved his phone into the pocket of his jeans and shut his locker.

“There’s an address,” Alisha said to Simon.

“Nathan’s right,” Curtis said with much reluctance. “What if one of you gets shot this time?”

“Do I not matter?”

“You’re immortal.”

“It still hurt!”

Alisha looked at Simon expectantly. “Are you coming?”

Simon finished buttoning up his shirt and closed his locker. He nodded hesitantly, not looking at the others.

“Let’s go, then.” Alisha left quickly, leaving Simon to catch up to her.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Kelly asked him as they walked out of the centre together.

“No.” Simon nearly ran into Nathan, who had stopped dead.

Nathan was staring at a boy standing beside the road near the centre. There was nothing striking about him; he was of average height, brown hair, no memorable features that would mark him out in a crowd, but Nathan seemed to recognise him.

“Shit,” Nathan said.

“What is it?”

“I’ve seen him before. He’s been hanging around the centre a lot.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” Kelly asked.

“He looks twelve! How was I supposed to know he could be dangerous? Even Barry could probably take him down.”

“It could be him,” Simon muttered to Alisha.

“You’re not seriously going to follow him, are you?” Nathan asked. “Do you want to get arrested for stalking?”

“Do you remember how many crazy people with powers have showed up around here?” Alisha asked. “I’m not fucking dying because we didn’t do anything about this one.”

Nathan shook his head. “It’s been nice knowing you. I’m going for a drink.” He slapped Simon on the arse as he pushed past.

“Curtis?” Simon asked.

“Do you actually have a plan? Or are you just going to go in and get caught again?”

“Can we just go?” Alisha interrupted.

Simon glanced back at the others, but followed her. Curtis and Kelly didn’t make an effort to call them back; not that Simon thought it would do much good.

The boy’s red hoodie wasn’t hard to spot, but he was difficult to keep track of in the mazes of back streets.

“You should turn invisible,” Alisha whispered.

“Now?”

“It’s more noticeable if we’re both following him.”

Simon stopped, concentrating on the feeling of disappearing. It was easier now; the power was there, but it didn’t feel like he had to rip it out of his chest anymore.

“Stay close, yeah?” Alisha asked, looking somewhere to his left.

It felt strange, walking through the estate while invisible. Simon had done it before, after dark, when all sorts of things went on that he was never privy to before. But it was different being with someone. Less lonely.

Simon wasn’t sure how long it took before they caught up with the boy again, outside a heavily graffitied warehouse. The building looked abandoned, but by now they all knew better than to assume that at first glance.

“Simon?” Alisha whispered.

He reappeared beside her, making her flinch. “Sorry.” He glanced towards the boy. “I can go in after him.”

“Be careful.” She squeezed his arm, her hand warm through the fabric of his shirt.

Simon nodded mutely. He turned towards the warehouse, disappearing as he went. The boy pulled the door open with a grinding sound, and Simon slipped in after him. There was a moment when he wasn’t sure how he was going to get out without being noticed, but he was in; he could worry about that later. Ahead of Simon, the boy in the hoodie was glancing around as he walked, flinching back at any sound. They came to what almost resembled a doctor’s waiting room, only missing the magazines. It was so incongruous with its surroundings that for a moment Simon was convinced the boy had some kind of teleportation power.

As Simon watched, he walked over to a door set into the wall, knocked, then wiped his palms on his jeans. The door opened and Simon followed him in, careful not to disturb anything as he moved to the corner, pressing himself against the wall.

Every corner was illuminated by the overhead fluorescents, giving it a sterile feel. Even invisible, Simon felt exposed. The room was dominated by a large desk and the presence of the man behind it.

“Seth,” the boy said, his voice squeaking slightly. He cleared his throat and stuck his shaking hands in his pockets.

“Can I help you?”

“I came in a week ago. Thomas. I—”

“I remember.” Seth glanced behind Thomas, straight at the corner where Simon was.

Simon barely took a breath, paralysed under the weight of that gaze. The man’s eyes flicked back to Thomas and Simon shakily exhaled.

“Is there a problem?”

“I need another power,” Thomas murmured. He gingerly sat on the very edge of the seat in front of Seth’s desk.

“Can you pay for it?”

Was selling powers even possible?

Simon carefully pulled out his phone, opening up the camera. The others would never believe him without proof, with the exception of Alisha.

“Not… exactly.” Thomas shifted in his seat. “I was hoping we could work something out.”

“I’m not running a charity here.”

“You’ve sold powers to so many people. They’re not _doing_ anything with them—”

“Do you think I care what people do with them?”

“They could change the world.”

“What do you want me to do about it?”

Thomas looked down. He resembled a naughty schoolboy being scolded by the headmaster. “I thought I could do something.”

“If you can’t pay—”

“What about a trade?” Thomas blurted out.

Seth leaned forward. “What do you have to offer?”

“My power. The one I’ve got now. I’ll give it back to you, if I can have the new one,” Thomas said, words tumbling out nearly too quick to catch. “Loads of people would want to see the future, you’d be able to resell it—”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Seth’s calm gaze settled on Thomas again. He shrugged. It was the first casual gesture Simon had seen him exhibit. “Why not? I’m feeling generous.”

Seth held out his hand.

 


	6. Chapter 6

1 new message(s) from: Alisha

_Pub on the estate asap. Emergency!_

 

Simon and Alisha ended up waiting about twenty minutes before anyone showed up. She’d sent a mass text the second Simon had burst out of the warehouse and breathlessly explained what was going on.

They’d only managed to talk for a few minutes before lapsing into an awkward silence until Simon had excused himself to buy her a drink.

The others had finally arrived by the time Simon headed back to the table from the bar. The only space left was next to Nathan. Simon hesitated, but took it; he didn’t want everyone noticing the tension between them. He could practically feel Nathan’s questioning gaze when he sat down and slid Alisha’s vodka tonic towards her.

Simon had left a few inches between them, but Nathan quickly slumped down in his seat, spreading his legs and pressing his thigh to Simon’s.

“What happened?” Kelly asked.

“He went to a warehouse on the estate,” Simon replied, trying to ignore how he could feel the warm press of Nathan’s thigh even through layers of clothing. “I followed him in.”

“There are much easier ways to find underground sex clubs,” Nathan commented.

“There was this guy selling powers,” Alisha said.

“Sounds like bullshit,” Nathan declared. “How can someone give you powers?”

“Now you care about the logic?” Curtis asked him. “How do you even know that’s what happened?”

“Simon saw him do it.”

“Have you got any proof? Where were you?” Nathan asked Alisha.

“I couldn’t go in.”

“Convenient.”

“I can’t turn invisible, you prick.”

“So we have to take your word for it? How do you know he’s not just pretending to make money off idiots?” Nathan asked, with a pointed look at Simon.

“I believe him,” Alisha said. “Anyway, it’s happened before. Nikki?” She added at Nathan’s blank look. “The transplant?”

Nathan shrugged. “I still don’t see what this has to do with any of us.” He leaned over and stole a sip of Simon’s beer before Simon could swat him away.

“In the letter, he said we were supposed to be using our powers. He might be dangerous.”

“Isn’t that exactly what you were saying? That we should all be running around in tights, _saving_ people?” Nathan said.

“This is different.”

“How? It just sounds like more of your bullshit to me.”

“We just finished dealing with some prick who was obsessed with powers,” Kelly added. “I don’t want to go through that again.”

Nathan nodded. “Let’s just not get involved; let someone else get horrifically murdered for once.”

“What if he really can take powers, though?” Alisha asked. “I’d sell mine.”

“How much are we talking?”

“You’d be fucked without your power,” Kelly told Nathan. “You’d die in five minutes.”

“Not if I was rich enough to tell the probation worker to fuck off and quit community service.”

“How’d you work that out?”

“I managed to get to twenty-two without dying, yeah? Start community service, and it’s happening twice a week. What does that tell you?”

“That there’s some serious occupational health and safety violations going on?” Curtis asked.

“Or that you’re a fucking idiot,” Alisha said.

Nathan pressed his hand to his heart in an exaggerated display of hurt before squeezing past Simon to get out. “I’ve got better things to do than sit around pretending to be Mystery Inc. Don’t get yourselves killed.” He tousled Simon’s hair on his way out.

“I should go too,” Simon mumbled. “It’s late.”

Once he was out in the cool night air, everything seemed a little easier. The bar had been cramped and crowded, and Nathan hadn’t helped. Simon was still getting used to all this contact—and _jealousy_ —and wasn’t sure whether embarrassment or arousal was going to win out in the end.

Simon started walking towards home. His attention was on his phone as he texted the video he’d taken of Thomas and Seth to the others. It was playing up, the file not wanting to attach itself, so Simon could be forgiven for not seeing the boy ahead until he nearly bumped into him.

“Sorry,” Simon mumbled. He looked up and froze.

“Hi,” Thomas said with a slight smile. “Guess we had to meet eventually.”

Simon swallowed hard. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and took a step back, putting space between them. “Do I know you?”

“You’ve been following me.” The smile slipped off Thomas’ face. “I saw you and that girl earlier. Well, I saw her. I figured you were around somewhere.”

“You were following us first,” Simon said, giving up the pretence. It obviously wasn’t going to do any good.

“I wanted to talk to you. About your powers. And don’t bother lying,” Thomas added.

“What do you want to know?”

Thomas shrugged. “I just wanted to talk. I think you should join me.”

“You wrote that letter.”

“Yeah. Bit dramatic, I know. But I had to get your attention.”

“You did.”

“So, what do you think?” Thomas asked almost coyly, with the air of someone unveiling an artwork.

“You think we should be superheroes.”

“You owe it to people,” Thomas snapped. “You were lucky enough to get them handed to you, and you’re all wasting them.”

“You bought yours, didn’t you?”

“I shouldn’t have had to. I was out in that storm too.” Thomas’ scowl gave way to an easy grin. “But now I can have any power I want.”

Before Simon could react, Thomas had grabbed him. Points of light played across his skin where Thomas was touching him, and Simon felt a strange shifting sensation. He shoved the boy away from him after a split second.

“Don’t touch me,” Simon growled. He felt nauseous, and he put a hand on the wall to steady himself.

“Sorry.” Thomas shrugged. “It’s easier to just show people.”

As he watched, Thomas disappeared.

Simon’s breath caught in his throat. It was only a second before Thomas reappeared, but it felt like an eternity.

“Invisibility.” Thomas nodded. “Nice one.”

“How did you do that?” Simon backed away, his hand on his phone in his pocket.

“I had to get _something_ good. Seth wouldn’t sell his power, but he gave me something close. Don’t worry,” Thomas added. “You’ll get it back.” He frowned. “I think.”

“That’s not a good way to convince people to join you,” Simon said. The sick feeling was easing up, but it was still there, like acid in his throat.

“Just think about it,” Thomas said. “You know where to find me.”

“That isn’t going to happen.” Simon thought about flickering out of view. The power wasn’t an involuntary reaction so much as a switch now, triggered by concentration.

Thomas scowled. “You’re weak. So are the others.”

“Leave them alone,” Simon said with confidence he didn’t feel.

“Why should you care about them? It doesn’t seem like any of you look out for each other.”

“You don’t know us.”

“I know enough,” Thomas snapped. “I know my brother was—”

Simon wasn’t listening. It was like a dam had broken, filling his lungs so he couldn’t breathe, the world swimming away for an agonisingly long second, everything turning grey, and then—

Thomas was breathing rapidly, looking around, eyes wide. Simon glanced sideways, at the window of the closed shop they were standing outside of. The reflection showed one boy in a red hoodie, standing alone.

Simon turned back to Thomas. It seemed like he’d only now realised how much danger he could be in.

The thought crossed Simon’s mind. One good shove, and hope that he would hit the concrete the wrong way and not get up—but he couldn’t do it.

Under other circumstances, there might not have been much of a difference between them. Simon turned away, leaving Thomas with his back to the wall, arms wrapped tightly around himself.

 

…

 

Nathan dragged himself into the locker room fifteen minutes late the next morning. He leaned against his locker, pressing one hand into the small of his back.

“You look like shit,” Alisha said as she caught a glimpse of him in the mirror.

“I died last night.” Nathan yanked his locker open. “Some bastard shoved me down the stairs.”

“Are you sure you weren’t just pissed?” Kelly asked.

“Thanks for the sympathy. I wasn’t that drunk.”

“You sent me five texts, at three in the morning, all about how you wanted to fuck—”

“Alright,” Nathan said quickly. “I swear, I was pushed.”

“The centre’s locked at night,” Curtis said. “How’d they get in?”

“Didn’t you lose your key?” Simon asked. “Someone might have stolen it.”

“Like who?”

“Thomas.”

“Don’t start that shit again. It’s not like there’s a shortage of psychos around here. Could have been you, for all I know.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Simon muttered, making Curtis snicker.

 “Why are you so convinced that kid’s after us?” Kelly asked.

“I ran into him last night. When I left the pub.”

“Shit.” Alisha’s attention was on Simon. “What happened?”

“He took my power It didn’t—”

“So now it’s the _kid_ who took your power? I think you’re getting your stories confused, mate.”

“That was what he got from Seth. His power is taking other people’s.”

Nathan shook his head. “There are much better ways to get attention, mate.” He zipped his jumpsuit up and pushed past Simon on his way out of the locker room.

“So he actually took it?” Alisha asked.

“Not for good,” Simon amended. “But I couldn’t use it.”

“How long?”

“A few minutes? Long enough. He’s the one who sent that letter. He thinks we should be using our powers.”

Alisha paused in the middle of tucking a stray curl under her headband. “He was _here_?”

Simon nodded.

“Shit.”

“We should go,” Curtis said. “We don’t need the probation worker on us too.”

“Like he’d give a fuck,” Alisha mumbled, but she followed him out anyway.

Kelly and Simon trailed after them, neither focused on the job at hand. They caught up with the others and were quickly directed outside, along with Curtis. Alisha and Nathan were sent to the storeroom, and Simon couldn’t help a little flicker of jealousy as he watched them walk off together—even though Alisha shrugged off Nathan’s attempt at draping his arm over her shoulders.

Simon’s mind kept returning to Nathan as he worked in silence alongside Kelly and Curtis to remove the hundreds of old posters stuck to poles outside the centre. Had he really been murdered? Kelly seemed pretty sure he’d been drunk—but if he hadn’t been, Simon was responsible. He should have gotten rid of Thomas when he had the chance. It wasn’t like there hadn’t been a precedent set.

He shouldn’t feel guilty, but he did. Even though Nathan hadn’t stayed dead, breaking his neck couldn’t have been a pleasant way to go, and Simon could have prevented it. Just one tiny murder, and all their problems would be solved—because that has worked so well in the past.

Simon shook his head and refocused. It was far too easy to let his mind wander during community service, especially since Shaun had taken over. Simon didn’t miss being forced to interact with people, but it was marginally better than this.

He followed the others without really thinking as they rounded the corner to work on the next set of posters, and nearly walked straight into Thomas.

Kelly stepped forward, putting the others behind her. “What are you doing here?”

“Wanted to know if you’d made a decision yet.”

“Not interested,” Curtis said.”

Maybe they could just take him out right now. Surely it couldn’t be that difficult, not when there were three of them and—

“I thought you might say that.” Thomas’ hand came out of his pocket and Kelly clutched Simon’s arm, squeezing tightly through his jumpsuit.

Kelly tugged Simon back, away from Thomas and the gun he was aiming at them.

“Curtis,” Kelly hissed.

“I’m _trying_ ,” he muttered.

“You don’t want to do this,” Simon said.

“Oh, I think I do.”

“Why?” Kelly asked. “We haven’t done shit to you.”

“If you can’t beat them, join them… or vice versa.”

“Killing us isn’t going to make anyone want to be superheroes.”

Thomas shrugged. “It worked for Batman.”

Simon wasn’t sure which was more disturbing—that Thomas thought that would work, or that Simon understood what he meant.

Thomas shifted his attention back towards Curtis. Kelly lunged forwards and Thomas’ head snapped back from the impact of her fist hitting his nose.

“Run!”

Curtis bolted towards the community centre, Kelly close behind him. Simon took off around the side of the building, deliberately shoving over a bin as he passed. Thomas had to follow him, he had to. Simon wasn’t as fast or able to defend himself as the others, and he’d mouthed off to Thomas; everything made him an easy target.

Simon waited until he heard footsteps, making sure Thomas saw him as he ducked behind a wall then disappeared.

Simon flattened himself against the brick. His heart was racing, although he didn’t feel like he was going to be sick like the first time he’d had to run for his life. Apparently being in mortal danger every two days was a decent fitness regime.

Thomas came past him a few seconds after Simon had turned invisible, snuffling wetly through his bloody nose. He glanced around, searching for any signs of life.

Simon carefully inched past him, his back to the wall. He had to get back to the others. The thought of Alisha and Nathan made him move a little quicker. They didn’t know that Thomas was here, let alone how much of a threat he was.

“Where are you?” Thomas muttered. He shifted the gun to his other hand and used his sleeve to mop up some of the blood trickling down his chin. “I know you’re invisible!”

Thomas fired, in the wrong direction, and Simon broke into a run, too blind with panic for Alisha and Nathan to see the cracked slab of concrete ahead until he’d tripped over it.

Pain exploded through his jaw and his vision swam. Simon rolled over, breath catching in his throat as he saw Thomas looking straight at him. He stalked over, gun trained on Simon.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, standing over Simon.

He fumbled with the gun in his left hand and Simon drove his foot up into Thomas’ crotch. He didn’t wait around to see him go down before getting up and dashing to the door.

Simon scrambled inside and sat with his back to the wall, panting. Simon gingerly touched his face and winced, yanking his hand away. He could worry about that later; right now he had to get somewhere safe.

Simon forced himself to get up, trying to stop his legs from shaking. He kept one hand on the wall as he made his way to the open door of the tiny storeroom just off the main hall. Simon slipped inside and pressed himself against the wall, breathing hard.

Simon’s phone vibrated in his pocket, the movement sounding incredibly loud in the silent centre.

 

1 new message(s) from: Alisha

_where are you_

 

1 new message(s) from: Simon

_Storeroom. Are you ok?_

 

2 new message(s) from: Alisha

_yes_

_were in locker room. seen Nathan?_

 

1 new message(s) from: Simon

_I thought he was with you._

 

1 new message(s) from: Alisha

_he left_

 

Simon shoved his phone back into his pocket and peeked out the tiny window. He had a decent view of the main hall, but not the entrance or the mezzanine stairs. Nathan was nowhere to be seen. Simon hoped he would stay out of sight, but then he didn’t know what was going on.

Simon heard the main doors open and he glanced outside again.

Nathan seemed completely unconcerned with the presence of a potential supervillain as he sauntered in, whistling. He was heading across the main floor, towards the vending machine. Simon darted out of the storeroom and intercepted Nathan as he passed by.

Nathan yelped in shock as Simon yanked him back inside and slammed the door. Nathan cursed and struggled against him, making a grab for the door handle, and Simon willed himself to become visible again. The look of confusion on Nathan’s face quickly gave way to annoyance.

“Was that really necessary?”

“Quiet.” Simon peered around Nathan to see if the centre was still empty.

“Are you trying to get some sex? Because I died last night, and I still haven’t stopped shitting myself, and you probably don’t want to get your cock all up in that.”

Simon stared at him in disbelief, momentarily forgetting the threat. Then there was a crash as the outside doors slammed open. Simon shoved Nathan down, sprawling on top of him in his hurry to get out of sight.

“Or maybe you do. I’m not judging, but—”

Simon clapped his hand over Nathan’s mouth. “Shut up!”

Nathan squirmed underneath Simon, making muffled noises of irritation, but Simon was a lot heavier and Nathan realised quickly that struggling wouldn’t do any good. Deciding on a different tactic, Nathan licked Simon’s palm. Simon jerked his hand away in disgust and wiped Nathan’s saliva off onto his jumpsuit. Unbelievable, really. Even his sister didn’t pull that trick anymore and Nathan had ten years on her.

“What the _fuck_ , Barry?”

“Stop moving so much,” Simon hissed.

“Is this turning you on?”

“No!”

“If you’re trying to hide, why didn’t you turn invisible?” Nathan whispered. “Unless you just wanted to be on top of me.”

“He would have seen you.”

“Who?” Nathan shoved Simon off and sat up. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

“The boy from last week. He attacked us.”

“The twelve year old?”

“He can take powers.”

Nathan shrugged. “Can’t be that hard to take him out. We could have done it then if you hadn’t insisted on a little non-consensual dry-humping.”

“He’s got a gun! He might have killed us, he’s already killed you.”

“You don’t know that was him. And I’m immortal.”

“I’m not!”

Nathan sighed, as if the possibility of Simon getting murdered was a minor inconvenience. “Where are the others?”

“They were in the locker room. Alisha texted me.”

“You’re _texting_ now?” Nathan scrunched up his nose. It was cuter than he probably realised. “Mate, no offence, but you’re not getting anywhere with that one.”

“I’m not trying to.”

Nathan shrugged. He stood up, careful to avoid the windows. “What happened to your face?”

“I tripped,” Simon said shortly.

Nathan snickered. “Don’t tell people that, man. Have I taught you nothing?”

“What am I supposed to say?” Simon peered out the window, checking their surroundings. It seemed all clear.

“Something that doesn’t make you sound like a pussy.”

Simon ignored Nathan in favour of quietly unlocking the door.

“Where are you going?” Nathan caught his wrist. “You’re not leaving me here to die again, you prick.”

“Locker room.”

Simon opened the door, Nathan following closely behind him. He couldn’t see anyone around, but that didn’t mean anything. Nathan brushed against Simon, making him jump.

“Relax,” Nathan hissed.

They passed by the large storeroom on the way to the locker room, both giving it a wide berth in case the door flew open. Simon was incredibly conscious of just how exposed they were, in this huge open space. The only upside was that Thomas hadn’t managed to get Simon’s power again – if he had, they’d be screwed. Somewhere behind them, a door closed, and Nathan clutched at Simon’s arm.

“ _Relax_ ,” Simon whispered.

“Fuck off,” Nathan muttered. He shoved Simon ahead of him into the locker room.

“Are you okay?” Kelly grabbed Simon, as if checking him over for injuries. She frowned. “What happened to your face?”

Nathan snorted. “He fell over.”

“Because I was being shot at,” Simon mumbled.

Nathan brushed past him on his way to lean against his locker. “So, what’s the plan?” he asked the room in general.

“We’re going to have to kill him,” Curtis said.

“Shit,” Nathan said.

“We’ve killed people before.”

“We don’t have a choice,” Simon added.

“Sorry for being a little uncomfortable with premeditated murder!” Nathan snapped.

“It’s self-defence,” Alisha reminded him.

“Fine. So we’re gonna kill…” Nathan clicked his fingers at Simon. “Psycho power-rape guy,” he amended when he didn’t get an answer. “Has anyone thought about how we’re supposed to do that?”

Everyone was silent.

“Because if he’s got a gun,” Nathan carried on. “And we’re armed with a fucking fire extinguisher, I don’t like our chances.”

“This whole thing is your fault!” Curtis snapped. “Can you shut up for five minutes while we sort it out?”

Nathan turned on Curtis. “How is this my fault?”

“You were the prick who was talking about our powers in the middle of the community centre!”

“In case you haven’t noticed, none of us have exactly been discreet about this shit!” Nathan gestured to Alisha. “She’s been shagging people left, right, and centre; Barry’s robbed a bank; I’ve _died_ in front of a hundred people—”

“Shut up!”

They all looked to Kelly.

“He’s coming, I can hear him thinking.”

The group unconsciously drew closer together.

“Where is he?” Nathan hissed at Kelly.

“I don’t know! Let me concentrate.”

Everyone quieted. Alisha’s hand was on Simon’s arm and he could hear her breathing, quick and shallow.

“I can’t hear him,” Kelly whispered. “But it doesn’t mean he’s not—”

Thomas walked in slowly, one hand in his hoodie pocket.

They spread out a little, trying to cover all angles. Nathan was left alone, closest to Thomas.

“Give it up, mate,” Curtis said. “You’re outnumbered.”

“That won’t matter if I’ve got your powers.”

“Powers aren’t that great,” Alisha said. “Trust me.”

“I could help people.”

“Why bother?” Nathan scoffed. “Not like anyone round here is worth getting shot for.”

“I’ve heard about everything that’s happened here. All the people who’ve died. That guy who got shot in the head, you didn’t do anything to stop that, did you?”

“We couldn’t have,” Simon said firmly.

“He brought that on himself,” Nathan said.

Simon shot him a glare.

“He was a _prick_ ,” Nathan mumbled.

It had all happened so quickly that none of them could do anything before Thomas was behind Nathan, a gun shoved into Nathan’s throat. The same weak points of light played across Nathan’s skin where Thomas was touching him, and panic clawed at Simon’s gut.

Thomas let go of Nathan’s throat to hold him more securely, one arm wrapped tightly around Nathan’s waist.

“I’m getting _really_ sick of being molested today,” Nathan muttered.

“Shut up.” Thomas nudged the barrel of the gun into Nathan’s throat.

“What’s your problem, mate?”

“My brother died last month,” Thomas said. “He was here, with a girl. They found him with his throat cut.”

“Well, that’s fucking _tragic_ ,” Nathan said. “But it’s not really anything to do with us, is it?”

“Shut _up_!” Simon snapped.

“I don’t care who it was! It was because of this place. People with powers.”

“So some people with powers are dicks,” Alisha said.

Everyone looked to her, and she locked her gaze with Simon’s and tilted her head slightly.

“It doesn’t mean you can kill us.”

Simon took the hint. He inched forward, a little closer to Thomas—

“Don’t move!” Thomas whipped round to aim the gun at Simon. “Don’t fucking move,” he repeated.

It happened in a second. Nathan shoved Thomas’ arm away from him, flinging himself towards Simon, and the gun went off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I've graduated uni, got a new job, and finally finished this fic!  
> The last chapter needs drafting, but will be up soon.   
> Hope it was worth the wait.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 

The force of the shot threw Nathan forwards, slamming him against Simon, making him stagger backwards. Simon’s back hit the locker as he caught Nathan around the waist, just barely staying on his feet. His hand slipped over wet fabric and panic seized him as he realised what had happened.

“Nathan!”

Nathan gagged and coughed, something warm and sticky spraying over Simon’s cheek. His lips moved but all that came out was a horrible gurgling as he tried to breathe.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Simon pressed his hand to Nathan’s wound, trying to stop the bleeding but his hand was covered in seconds.

Simon locked eyes with Thomas over Nathan’s shoulder. He was frozen, horror etched on his face as he stared at Nathan’s twitching body, before Curtis’ forearm locked around his neck and dragged him to the floor.

Nathan’s back heaved under Simon’s hand and he vomited blood down his front, making Simon reflexively let him slip to the floor. Simon dropped to his knees beside Nathan, slipping in the blood as he leaned over him. His fingers tangled with Nathan’s and he felt a faint squeeze, but couldn’t tell if it was deliberate or just a dying response. Simon pulled Nathan into his lap, cradling his head. He jammed shaking fingers underneath Nathan’s jaw, feeling the movement grow weaker and slower.

Curtis was on the ground, knee shoved into Thomas’ back, wrenching the boy’s arm behind him. Thomas was fighting and thrashing, trying to shake Curtis off. One hand came up, and the gun fired again.

Simon looked up, ears ringing. Thomas had gone limp under Curtis.

There was no need to check for a pulse. The back of Thomas’ head was gone, blood spattered across Curtis’ jumpsuit and the dirty floor, interspersed with fragments of bone and mealy chunks of brain matter.

Simon’s stomach turned and he looked back down at Nathan, clasping his shaking hands behind Nathan’s back.

Curtis leaned over Thomas’ prone body.

“Don’t touch him,” Alisha said sharply. “Wait a minute. Just in case.”

Simon gently eased Nathan back onto the ground and stood up on shaking legs. His jumpsuit was dark with blood.

“We should move him.” Curtis motioned to Nathan. “In case someone comes in.”

“I’ll do it.” Simon wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to, but he had to try.

“I’ll give you a hand.” Kelly turned to the others. “Can you take him?”

Simon didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. He knelt beside Nathan and carefully rolled him onto his back. There was blood, thick and dark, leaking from the corner of his mouth. Simon wiped it away with his sleeve.

“Let’s go,” Kelly said.

“Should we try to get the bullet out?” The thought of sticking his fingers into that ragged hole in Nathan’s back made Simon feel sick.

“I think he’ll be okay. Never pulled them out when he got shot in the head.” Kelly frowned. “Maybe they’re still in there.”

“That would explain a lot,” Simon said weakly. He stood up and pushed the bloody sleeves of his jumpsuit further up his forearms.

They picked Nathan up between them, Simon’s hands under Nathan’s arms and Kelly holding his legs. Simon tried not to look at the way Nathan’s head lolled at an unnatural angle, his face pale, eyes still open.

The stairs weren’t easy, but they made it. It wasn’t until they laid Nathan on his mattress that Simon realised he was shaking with the effort of carrying him.

“Do you want to stay with him?”

“We can’t,” Kelly said bluntly. “There’s blood everywhere. The probation worker’s coming back soon.”

Simon looked down at Nathan. He didn’t want to leave him there. They’d never left Nathan alone to wake up since the first time. Usually Kelly was with him; last time, they’d all hung there in chains until Nathan had come back to life and freed them.

“Alright, come on.” Kelly grabbed Simon’s arm and physically pulled him down the stairs and into the storeroom which held cleaning supplies.

“I’m trying to be nice, but if you don’t get your shit together and help, I’m gonna slap you.” Kelly shoved a mop and bucket at Simon. “Start on the locker room, I’ll do out here.”

Chastised, Simon quietly made his way back to the locker room. The room looked cold and empty, the metal and tile stretching before him. The smell of the blood was thick in the air, and Simon pressed his sleeve against his nose, trying not to retch. There were already a few flies buzzing around the worst of it.

Simon started cleaning up, trying and failing to not think about how all that blood had been inside Nathan a few moments ago. The water in the bucket quickly turned pink as Simon rinsed the mop.

He was about halfway through doing the floor when Kelly came back in. Simon hadn’t realised how pale she looked, the black smudge of her eyeliner only making it more obvious how wide her eyes were.

“Are you okay?”

Kelly shrugged. “It’s not like we’re ever gonna get used to it.” She crossed her arms over her chest, the posture for once making her look less tough. Blood was crusted around her cuticles and under her nails. “I’m glad it was him,” she said abruptly. “Not one of us. And it feels shit.”

“He’s going to be okay. We wouldn’t be.” Simon didn’t mention the thought that hadn’t left his mind since Thomas had touched Nathan.

“It was nearly you.”

“I know.” Simon hadn’t thought about that yet; the implications were just too much when Nathan was still dead.

“You know I can hear you thinking. No one’s going to hate you for it.”

Simon couldn’t respond. It felt like his throat had closed up.

“You’re our friend. That stuff doesn’t matter.” Kelly turned away and grabbed the bucket of water. “I’ll tip this in the lake.”

Kelly had left before Simon could think of what to say, leaving him staring at the door. His gaze caught the remainder of a spray of blood on his locker door and he picked up the cleaning rag again, determined to put it out of his mind until there wasn’t a hint left of what had happened.

At some point Kelly joined him again, and they cleaned in silence as they scrubbed the last traces of what almost looked like innocuous rust from the tile. The smell of bleach burned Simon’s nose by the time they had finished, and the locker room looked cleaner than it had ever been.

“I’m going to go home,” Kelly said. “Go talk to Nathan.”

“I’m not sure I want to.”

Kelly glared at him. “You’d better. I’m sick of the pair of you.” She slammed her locker door shut. “I’ll call you later, alright?”

“Thanks,” Simon said quietly.

“Good luck, yeah? You’ll be fine.” Kelly gave his shoulder an affectionate pat on her way out.

Simon methodically stripped down to his underwear, trying not to touch the bloody patches on his jumpsuit too much. He’d have to scrub it in the sink later or it would end up looking as disgusting as Nathan’s. Simon took his time getting dressed again in the clothes he’d worn to community service that morning, which already felt like weeks ago.

He’d walked over to Nathan’s locker before he’d made a conscious decision to do so. The door wasn’t locked, and swung open under a soft touch. Nathan’s jacket had been tossed on the floor despite the presence of a clothes hanger. Simon picked it up, holding it close. Nathan might like it, when he woke up. If he woke up.

There’s something bothering him about the whole immortality thing. It’s not just that Nathan died to protect him, even though it was rare for him to use his immortality selflessly. There was just some part of it that didn’t fit, although Simon couldn’t work out what it was.

Simon slowly made his way back to the mezzanine, collecting a bottle of water from the vending machine on the way.

Nathan was still sprawled on his back on the mattress, open eyes staring sightlessly at the cracked ceiling. Flecks of blood were dried onto his cheeks and chin. Simon ventured further onto the mezzanine, and carefully stepped around Nathan’s body. He sat in the corner, back pressed to the wall and knees hugged to his chest. He lay Nathan’s jacket to the side and settled in to wait. How long had Nathan been out for? It seemed like it could have been anywhere between five seconds and five hours.

A piece of Nathan’s hair had fallen into his face, resting on the surface of his glassed-over eye. Simon leaned over and brushed it away from Nathan’s face. His skin was already so cold that Simon recoiled from the touch. He thought about pulling Nathan’s blanket over him, but it wouldn’t do anything other than get it soaked in blood. Could Nathan even _feel_ cold? Simon had never asked him what it was like when he died.

Simon’s phone buzzed and he extracted it from his pocket.

 

1 new message(s) from: Kelly

_is nathan ok?_

 

Simon texted back a quick ‘ _not yet_ ’. He checked the time again. It had been nearly an hour. Thomas was probably in a shallow grave, and the others gone home.

Simon sniffled. He pressed his face against his arms, trying not to let the stinging in his eyes turn into tears. This was stupid. Nathan was going to wake up, Simon told himself. He’d wake up and see Simon crying, and he’d never let him hear the end of it. Then everything would go back to normal. Exactly how everything was before all this happened. Simon could live with keeping his crush to himself if Nathan got to live at all. That thought did it, and Simon had to swipe the back of his hand over his eyes, hurriedly trying to stop himself from crying.

It was at that moment that Nathan’s body jolted like he’d been shocked, and he snapped upright, a gasp tearing from his lungs. Simon jumped at the unexpected movement and Nathan looked around to find him in the shadows.

“Fuck,” Nathan said quietly, his voice raspy. He coughed then winced, pressing a hand to his side.

Simon shuffled closer, so Nathan could see him. “Does it still hurt?” His hand hovered over Nathan’s, desperate to touch him, to prove to himself that Nathan was really alive.

“A bit.” Nathan carefully moved back, leaning against the wall. “Fuck, I really thought that would hurt less than getting impaled.”

Guilt settled heavily in Simon’s stomach. “Do you want a drink?” He offered the bottle of water to Nathan.

“Thanks.” Nathan took it and wrenched the cap off, downing half in one go. “Christ.” He closed his eyes.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Dying takes it out of you. At least I’ve stopped shitting myself.” Nathan leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “What happened to the kid?”

“He’s dead. Shot himself. I think it was an accident, but I’m not sure.”

Nathan snorted. “Should have known he wouldn’t have the balls to actually kill someone.”

“Most people wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, we’re fucked up. Don’t remind me.”

“It probably wasn’t him, then,” Simon said. “The other night.”

Nathan shrugged. “I was pissed. Maybe he wasn’t such a psycho.”

“I feel bad for him,” Simon admitted. “He wanted to help people.”

“He’s the one who decided to be a supervillain.”

“Not much of one. He only killed you.” Simon allowed himself a small smile. “And it didn’t last.”

“That’s very hurtful, Barry. I’m worth at least two of you lot.”

Simon glanced up at Nathan. He was staring at him, hazel eyes fixed on Simon’s face. Simon’s cheeks burned and he looked down again, uncomfortable under the weight of Nathan’s gaze.

Nathan moved closer, leaning in. “Simon…” He gently slipped his hand under Simon’s chin, tilting his head back.

Simon barely took a breath as Nathan studied him. They were so close that Simon could see the shadow of Nathan’s eyelashes on his cheekbones, close enough that Simon would only need to move an inch to press their lips together—

“Have you been crying?” Nathan barely suppressed a smirk.

“Fuck off,” Simon said weakly. He shoved Nathan’s hand away.

Nathan laughed, delighted. “You have, haven’t you? Barry, I didn’t know you cared.”

“I thought it might have been real this time.”

“And the idea of spending the rest of your lonely, pathetic life without me was just too much.” Nathan patted Simon’s knee.

“It might not have been too bad,” Simon mumbled.

“You’d miss me,” Nathan said confidently. He reached over to snag his discarded jacket and shook a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of the pocket.

“I know.”

Nathan pulled out a cigarette and lit up. Simon watched him inhale and then part his lips, blowing out a delicate stream of smoke.

“Are you ever going to tell me why you won’t shag me?” Nathan offered the cigarette to Simon, but he didn’t take it.

“Other than the obvious?”

“Come on, I just got shot for you.” Nathan nudged Simon. “And it’s not like I’m going to think any worse of you than I already do.”

“I liked my best friend when we were sixteen.” Simon was hyperaware of how close they are, but not being able to see Nathan made everything easier. “I kissed him.”

Nathan’s thigh pressed against Simon’s, but he didn’t say anything. Smoke curled from the end of the cigarette in Nathan’s hand, resting on his knee.

“He hit me,” Simon admitted. “Then he told everyone. Said I tried to… you know.”

“Bad-touch him?”

“Yeah.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“I know.” Simon reached over and took the cigarette. He took one drag and had to suppress a cough.

“Telling everyone, I mean. I’d definitely molest you.”

Simon choked on his next inhale. “Romantic,” he said through a coughing fit.

“Watch the sarcasm, that’s my thing.” Nathan reached over and plucked the cigarette from Simon’s hand. “And I think if anyone can be accused of not being romantic, it’s you.”

“You nearly threw up on me.”

“Christ, I’d hoped you wouldn’t remember that.”

“How could I forget?” Simon leaned back against the wall, suddenly exhausted. It had been a long day. A long _week_.

“C’mere.” Nathan slipped his arm round Simon’s shoulders.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s called a hug. Jesus, I knew you were emotionally repressed, but—”

“I meant why.”

“Thought you needed it. And probably years of therapy, but I’m not prepared to put that much effort in.”

“Thanks.”

Nathan patted Simon’s shoulder.

Simon let himself slip a little closer to the other boy. He was so warm, and Simon could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady. Even the smell of smoke, which he usually disliked, was comforting.

 “How did you know about your power?” Simon asked sleepily. Now that he knew Nathan was okay, all his earlier questions were resurfacing in his mind.

“Hm?”

“He took your power when he grabbed you.”

“Yeah, I know. I felt it.”

“But you weren’t there when I told everyone about him.”

“I think I liked you better when you didn’t talk,” Nathan mumbled.

“How did you know you were still immortal?”

Nathan shrugged, dislodging Simon from his comfortable position. “I didn’t.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know.”

“But you—”

“Look, does it matter? I survived, didn’t I?” Nathan looked at Simon. “I wasn’t really thinking about it.”

“You could have died!” Simon shoved Nathan’s arm off him and turned to face him.

“ _You_ could have died. Couldn’t let that happen.”

Silence stretched between them as Simon struggled to find something to say.

“Look, don’t read into it, alright? You should go.”

“But—”

“I’m going for a drink,” Nathan interrupted. “Figured I deserve a little post-resurrection sex.”

“What if I did… read into it?”

Nathan shrugged. “Then I guess this is your last chance.” His tone was casual, but Simon thought he knew Nathan well enough now to see through it.

Simon’s heart was beating so fast that he thought he might be sick. He slipped his hand around the back of Nathan’s neck, curling his fingers into Nathan’s hair. It was softer than he’d expected. He couldn’t help thinking back to kissing Sally, and Jessica, his mind frantically scrabbling for something in his memory to tell him how to do this.

“For fuck’s sake, don’t pussy out now,” Nathan said.

“Prick,” Simon mumbled. He carefully leaned in and pressed his lips against Nathan’s.

Even after everything that had happened, Simon expected something to go horribly wrong. Nathan would decide that Simon was a terrible kisser and that he didn’t like him after all, or maybe the roof of the community centre would fall in and crush them both.

He hadn’t expected Nathan to moan at the first touch of their lips and grab the front of Simon’s shirt, pulling him closer. All Simon’s worry dissipated, replaced by a burning _need_ for more. He gasped, pressing closer, tugging maybe a little too hard at Nathan’s hair. Nathan shoved his hand under Simon’s shirt, splaying his fingers out over Simon’s back. Simon whimpered as Nathan nipped sharply at his lower lip. He was supposed to open his mouth, he knew that, and as soon as he parted his lips, Nathan’s tongue was in his mouth. It was just like the first time, only so much better because Nathan wasn’t drunk or high or under the influence of a tattoo; he wanted this. Wanted Simon.

“Finally,” Nathan mumbled as he pulled away. “You prick.”

“I’m sorry,” Simon said, only half-seriously.

“Good. You should be.” Nathan leaned in for another kiss, soft and gentle this time. His hand was back under Simon’s shirt, warm against his bare skin.

Nathan’s other hand was on Simon’s chest, pushing firmly until Simon lay back on the mattress with Nathan sprawled heavily on top of him. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, but it didn’t stop Nathan from scrabbling at Simon’s shirt buttons, undoing them to shove his hands inside.

“Stop for a second.” Simon grabbed Nathan’s wrists.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t shit myself this time.”

“It’s not that. Although you are covered in blood.”

“I could always take it off,” Nathan teased.

“You hated me a day ago.”

Nathan’s expression softened and he leant down to press a kiss to Simon’s cheek. “I never hated you. I just thought you were a wanker.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit soon?”

“How long were you seeing Jessica before you screwed her?”

“A few days,” Simon muttered, feeling his cheeks burn.

“We’ve been flirting for months.”

“Does that count?”

“Should.” Nathan pressed a kiss to Simon’s throat.

“You’re making it hard to think,” Simon murmured.

“Is it hard?” Nathan teased.

“Fuck off.”

“I can’t help myself, you’re too cute.” Nathan’s hand slipped down Simon’s stomach to graze his cock through his trousers.

Simon whimpered, lips parting in surprise. “Nathan… I’m not…” he trailed off as Nathan leaned down and pressed his mouth to Simon’s throat, kissing and gently nipping at his skin.

Simon was so caught up in what Nathan was doing to him that he almost didn’t register the buzzing of his phone. He tried to work his phone out of his pocket as Nathan continued.

“Don’t you dare answer that,” Nathan mumbled. “Unless you’re going for my cock, in which case… left a bit, mate.”

“It might be Kelly.” Simon extracted his phone. “She needs to know you’re not dead.”

“Just text her.”

Simon sent a quick message.

“Done?” Nathan grabbed Simon’s phone and tossed it aside to land on his jacket.

“Apparently,” Simon said dryly.

“Don’t be such a whiny bitch,” Nathan said. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

“I can’t.” Simon sat up and fixed the buttons on his shirt.

Nathan groaned. “Seriously?”

“Mum’s working tonight—”

“The perfect time to shag.”

“So I have to look after my sister,” Simon finished.

“Such a fucking cockblock.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Last day.”

“Come here.” Nathan leaned closer and pressed his mouth to Simon’s again, this time slipping a hand between his legs.

Simon’s cheeks burned as he pulled away. “Nathan!”

“What? It’s just something to think about tonight.” Nathan patted Simon’s hand. “You’re not going to… _panic_ about this, are you?” he asked awkwardly.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to go through all that shit again. I want to keep you this time.”

“I won’t.” Simon looked down at Nathan’s hand on top of his. “Can we not tell them right away?”

“They won’t care. And Kelly knows everything anyway.”

“Please?”

“Alright.” Nathan kissed Simon’s cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

Simon slowly got up and fixed his shirt as he made his way over to the stairs.

“Simon?”

He looked around to see Nathan leaning back on his elbows, jumpsuit unzipped almost all the way.

“When you’re not _babysitting_ … it’s on.”

 

**Epilogue**

“That was anti-climactic.” Nathan sat down next to Simon, leaning heavily against him. “Last day of community service and all. I was kind of expecting someone to try to kill us.”

“You sound disappointed,” Simon said.

“Don’t pretend you’re not. Could have got one last chance to pretend to be a superhero.” Nathan put his arm round Simon’s shoulders, just like he had the other day, and pulled him close.

"Something you want to tell us?" Curtis asked.

“I can cuddle my boyfriend if I want to.”

“Are you together?”

“Yeah.”

“Took you long enough,” Kelly mutters.

“You can’t really say you saw this coming,” Nathan pointed out. “Using your power is cheating.”

“Actually it was my power,” Curtis said. “And I wish it hadn’t been.”

“What do you mean?”

“In the hotel. Saw you two going at it.”

“You told everyone?” Simon asked.

“What position?” Nathan turned to Simon. “You know, in case we need some inspiration.”

“You were sucking him off.”

“As if I’d be the bitch in this relationship.”

“You’re definitely not getting any head after saying that,” Kelly said. “And Curtis didn’t tell anyone. I heard him thinking about it.”

“He told me,” Nikki said.

“And Kelly told me,” Alisha added.

“So everyone knew about this before I did?” Nathan asked. “You could’ve given me a hint. ‘Barry wants to shag you’, or something.”

“We thought you might not be a complete idiot for once. Should have known,” Alisha said.

“Is that what you were talking about when we were at Brian’s flat?” Simon asked.

Kelly nodded. “He was feeling you up. Thought maybe he’d found the balls to do something.”

“Stop picking on me,” Nathan whined. “He didn’t say anything either.”

“Yeah, but it’s _Simon_. No offence,” Alisha added.

“None taken,” he muttered.

Nathan patted Simon’s thigh and kissed his neck, then whispered, “You know, the toilets here have plenty of room for shagging. I’ve got condoms.”

“Is that supposed to turn me on?” Simon muttered.

“Thought it might. They’re strawberry flavoured.”

“That sounds awful.”

“They are. No one wants to get fucked by a Starburst.” Nathan turns to face Simon and drapes his legs over Simon’s lap.

Simon automatically put his hand on Nathan’s thigh.

“Keep it clean,” Curtis says, smirking.

“Why, are we making you question your sexuality?” Nathan presses a wet kiss to Simon’s cheek.

Simon shoved Nathan’s hands off him and wiped his cheek.

“Come on, baby. It’s too soon to lose all the passion in our relationship.”

“Buy me a drink first,” Simon said.

“Can I borrow some money?”

Simon sighed and pushed Nathan’s legs off him. “What do you want?”

“Same again.”

While Simon’s waiting to order, Nathan comes up to the bar and threads his fingers through Simon’s.

“Have to make sure you’re not picking up any girls.” Nathan squeezed Simon’s hand then let go.

“Because I did so well last time.”

“Sorry about that,” Nathan said, not sounding sorry at all.

Simon nudged Nathan’s hand with his own. “No one’s home tonight.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to come over?” Simon couldn’t look at Nathan. His face felt hot, and he was sure he was turning pink. “We could… finish what we started.”

Nathan’s hand slipped into Simon’s back pocket. “What are we waiting for, then?”

As Nathan guided Simon outside and they huddled together against the cold, Simon still kind of couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Not after all the shit they’d been through—

But when he takes Nathan home and they kiss with bare limbs entangled under the blankets, when Simon makes Nathan fall apart, panting and beautiful, it all seems worth it.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's finally finished! My longest fic to date. (I may add some bonus x-rated content as a sequel if anyone would like to read about what happens immediately after this epilogue...)
> 
> Thanks to everyone who reviewed along the way, it means a lot x
> 
> On to the next project! OT3 this time, I think. Although if anyone is in the mood for prompting, I'm always looking for inspiration.


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